


Missing Moments - SW Collection

by TheDarkDragonfly



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Missing Moments, all kinds of things, some are angsty, some are cute, some are hot, some are just kinda fluffy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:52:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28344192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkDragonfly/pseuds/TheDarkDragonfly
Summary: A collection of Missing Moments. Han & Leia focused.
Relationships: Leia Organa/Han Solo
Kudos: 12





	1. Home One, Rebel Command Fleet

**Author's Note:**

> Nightmares continue to haunt Leia and up until now, no one knows about them.
> 
> AN: Not mine - sadly.

Han awoke with a start, disoriented.

Taking in his surroundings he remembered being on board Home One, in one of the Officers Cabins. That in itself was a strange occurrence, and one of complete coincidence. He had been staying in the Upper Starboard hanger on-board the Falcon but with the repair list building into something out of a nightmare, and the heating system kicking in and turning off without notice or instruction over the last week, it was becoming harder to stand in his beloved ship, let alone sleep. Rieekan had pulled the list of available rooms late that evening and found him this one to make use of until the repairs were in order - or indefinitely, if he would sign his name to this mismatched band of rebels.

He lifted a hand to rub his eyes, annoyed and disturbed as to why he was woken so suddenly. Strange, he was shaking. Noticing also for the first time that his breathing had accelerated and the bare skin of his chest reacted chillingly to the darkness in the room. Adrenaline ran rampant through his system for reasons still unknown. He couldn't remember a dream which would have woken him.

A blood curdling scream ripped through him in an instant, and before his brain registered what what happening, he had leaped out of bed, and was standing in the hallway searching for the source of the noise; dressed solely in sleep pants, blaster in hand. This stretch of rooms was, to his knowledge, completely deserted. Extra space and miscellaneous offices used to hold medical and emergency food supplies.

Cries sounded again from halfway down to his left. Following the source, he stopped outside an alcove of doors, and listened.

As with everything in the Rebellion, the sleeping quarters on board this half of the ship were subject to power loss and malfunctioning equipment. But who was he to throw stones at that? He has a menopausal ship on his hands at the moment, and no idea how to treat her.

The doors in front of him all registered green, signaling the lock was not engaged and open.

In the silence he waited. But he did not need to wait long. Another scream rang out from behind him. A woman's scream, followed by begs of mercy and pleas to stop.

Han spun and launched him at the door, opening it and slamming his fist into the lighting panel inside, blaster aimed at the far side of the room, slamming his fist again into the wall. "Get off of her!" He bellowed, and was this time rewarded with a night-setting glow across the ceiling. "Hey!" He yelled again as the crying and begging continued. "I said, GET OFF of her!" Nothing changed, no one stood. No one told him to leave and to mind his own damn business. But still the muffled sobs went on. "What the-" The small form huddled on the bed half covered by a thick twisted blanket was alone. It was Leia. Curled into a ball, crying and facing away from him, shoulders hunched in on herself, legs kicking in small strained bursts.

Leia.

Oh Gods, Leia.

He knew, both from general knowledge and from first hand experience, you should never try to wake someone in the throws of a night-terror. But as he stood above her, watching helplessly as she shook and mumbled incoherently, he knew it would take more strength than he had to walk away. How could he leave her to her horrors? Leave her locked in a world that was hurting her and not help, not step in and save her when he had the opportunity.

Just then she arched back, panting and screamed.

"Leia! Leia! Please, Leia. Wake up! Damn it! Leia, please wake up. It's alright, I have you. Leia." Kneeling beside her, half on the small bed, he swept a hand up her arm to her shoulder, continuing quickly passed her neck and finally stopped at the head, cupping the back of her head. "Leia."

Her eyes sprang open, wild and terrified. He called her name again: still unfocused. "Leia, it's me. I'm here, I have you, you're safe."

"Han?" she rasped, gasping and shaking. He gathered her to him before he even registered that he was doing it, and held her. Her hair was matted, the back of the camisole she wore clung to her, drenched in sweat and freezing cold. Moving he sat further in on the bed, clutching her to him like a lifeline as her body racking sobs quieted and her breather normalized.

"I'm sorry I disturbed you. I'm alright now. Thank you."

"Disturbed me?" he repeated, not moving and not letting her go. "Sweetheart, you didn't disturb me, I thought you were being attacked. You kept screaming "stop" and "please". Leia, what's going on? Have you had dreams like this before?"

She sat silently for a moment longer, before nodding. "Occasionally."

"How often is occasionally?" answering with shrug she let out another large shaky breath. "It matters, tell me."

"All the time," her voice was barely above a whisper. Han sat stunned. How was it that she had nights like this all the time, and he had no idea. no one did as far as he could tell. No one mentioned it at least. And obviously no one had tried to help her.

"Wait, is that why you've changed rooms?"

"Yes. And how do you know where my old room was?" He smiled at that. That seemed more the woman he knew, not the scared creature in his arms now. But the quick witted, sharp-tongued fiery beauty who haunted him every moment of every day.

"Oh, I have my ways and my reasons. So you moved so no one would hear you?"

"Yes, I didn't realize there was anyone else in the part of the ship."

"Well, there wasn't, I'm here provisionally. And I'm glad I was. You need to talk to someone Leia. Is there anything you can take that would help?"

"I did talk to a medic when I first started getting them, he gave me a sleepaid. But that made me groggy and they didn't stop, the only difference was that I couldn't wake myself up from them at all."

"Shit."

"I'm sorry for waking you."

"Don't start with that. I'm just glad I was here. Look," he shifted her so he could better watch her face. Realizing for the first time that she was nearly as half naked as he was, and in any other situation, he would have made a comment on it, in hopes of making her blush. But that was overshadowed now. She was hurting. And worst of all, he didn't know how to help her. "How long have these been happening to you?"

Leia swallowed and tried to sit back, he kept her in place by hugging her tighter and murmuring into her hair. Reluctantly she relaxed again and after a pause she answered. "I've had them ever since you met me. It's all Death Star / Alderaan related. It's all fairly horrid."

"I'm going on a supply run in a few days, I wont be gone long, but can I look for something that might help? I'll look into it, make a few inquires while I'm planet-side."

Leia looked up at him, and swallowed. "Okay, thank you. I'm going to try to get some sleep, and you should too. I'll be alright." She pushed away from him again and he let her. Standing he moved away from her back towards the door, stooping to pick up his discarded blaster from where he had hurled it on the desk.

"Han," he stopped and turned back to her, she was bundled in the blanket, long dark hair framing her face. "Thank you. But please, please don't tell anyone."

"I won't. You have my word. Does anyone else but me know know about this?"

"Thank you, I would hate to be known as the orphaned princess who has nightmares." she smiled shakily trying to lighten the mood. "And yes, well, you and Carlist. He knows too, and I made him promise not to tell anyone."

Han nodded and smiled to her. Without another word, he walked out and quietly shut the door behind him.

Placing the blaster again under his head he lay and stared at the ceiling. Unable to sleep or relax. Too worked up and worried about the young woman down the hall.

A young woman who had slid so completely into his life.


	2. Corusca Sector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A missing moment from the Liberation of Coruscant. "Lucas Canon"

Agony. That's what this was. Pure agony.

The dim night lighting from the open fresher burned her eyes.

A familiar heavy weight beside her shifted and rolled, causing her tender brain and stomach to do the same. Leia gripped the side of the mattress and waiting for the pitch and yaw of her internal organs to settle back to where they ought to be. The pounding behind her eyes intensified and she turned her head slightly, trying to find a new comfortable position. It wasn't possible. Last night - or the start of it at least - was still rattling around inside of her mind. The waiting. The worry. The watching and planning. It never got any easier sending people away to war, she had thought harshly as she stood at the command deck watching the transport vessels and fighters take up strategic positions, preparing the invasion. The Liberation - as everyone was calling it.

The battle was blur. Lasting hours and costing so many lives. Impossible odds. That's what they had beaten - again. The weight of what they had fought for and won had manifested itself in crushing elation. The immensity of the battle and the hard earned prize - freedom - had light a fire within all ranks of the Rebellion which Leia had never dreamed possible.

Her head throbbed in memory of that excitement and she moaned in pained annoyance and the weight beside her shifted again.

"You awake?" Han's sleep stiffened voice queried.

"Yes." She croaked, throat burning.

"You alive?"

"No. Please stop talking." She pressed a hand against her forehead. Han chuckled and eased off the bed, padded over to the sink and filled a glass. He returned, depositing two pink pills into her palm and holding the water in front of her face. "No thanks."

"It'll help."

She moaned again, this time in frustration and sat up gingerly, pulling her legs up in support. He sat by her knees, watching her with a slight grin creeping across his face.

"Thank you."

"Give it twenty minutes, you'll feel better."

"If you say so." she breathed, leaning her head back against the pillows.

"Trust me, I've have years of experience." He kissed her sheet covered knee and took the glass from her.

"Well," Leia straightened the sheets tucked in around her. "We had fun. I think..." she added, closing her eyes again.

"Yes. We did." He smiled, last night flooding his senses.

Han knew she wouldn't remember the last half of last night. The party had reached a crushing climax; countless toasts, endless alcohol, music blaring and beating against immensity of metal and crush of people. They had sat, surrounded by friends, old and new-founded, laughing and shouting, free for once of the oppression of tomorrow, or all the "what ifs" which had started to pile up over the last few weeks in preparation for this mission. Th Rouges had 'liberated' several large shipping containers of wine, ale and numerous liquors - among them a dozen or so bottles of barrel aged Corellian Reserve - which Leia had drank, straight from the bottle, mischievous grin on her face.

Members of the Council stopped by, smiling and vaguely disapproving before disappearing again, to stand along the wall at the back and congratulate themselves. Han had tossed back several shots of fire whiskey with Luke before settling down on a crate. Leia had wrapped around him, one hand grasping the bottle of Reserve she had claimed, laughing and carefree above him. Her free hand ran bravely up and down his torso, pausing only to drink again. They had become frenzied near the end of the night, drunk and clumsy. He held her to him, bottle discarded somewhere on the floor, Leia undulating above him, straddling his lap and whispering wicked promises and enticements into his ear. He nipped and kissed his away across he neck and throat, heeded by the sounds of celebration and her spiked panting.

A slurred cheer broke his attention and he pulled her away from him slightly, her body slumping towards his. He gasped, clearing his head as he did so. She was intoxicating. Addicting. But they were causing a scene; time to wrap this up. She didn't hesitate as he lifted her, steadier than he expected to be, and started off towards the suite. The Falcon was closer - but they would get no quiet there. Not tonight.

Leia awoke briefly as he lay her down on their bed, smiling brilliantly at him.

"We did it." She said simply. Her eyes closed and smiled.

Yes, Han smiled, watching her from the side of the bed, shedding clothes slowly. Yes they had.

xXx Earlier xXx

It lay glistening below them. A ripe jewel on a rich sea of black. Coruscant.

Months of planning. Years of fighting. Days of battling. Hours of waiting. Waiting.

The Core. They had finally reached it. And mere hours ago, they had lay claim to it. Merciless and agonizing; the campaign had taken a hard toll. Personnel, supplies, money, droids and time. Everything had bled for this.

Council had watched; surrounded by read-out screens and the muffled electronic voices of pilots crackling like invisible giants across the battle plan. Tiny dots blinking in and out flitted and danced across the screen.

In and out. In and out. Rhythmic and enchanting, she could not turn her attention from that terrifying display. Her nerves spiked and shattered, waiting to all those tiny green dots to blink back in again. She couldn't know, would have no real way of discerning which tiny point of light was his. So, instead, she watched all of them and let herself ride the wave of terror and relief when the screen light back up, and the dots she had been watching were all still there.

Comm-chatter spiked instantly, voices rang clear and thunderous across the bridge. It's over! It's over.

Leia sagged forward, resting her forehead on the display and closing her eyes - the blinking dots still flashing across her vision, now a muffled green haziness which washed away in front of her. Over? After all of her years planning and fighting and bleeding and crying and shooting and running. Over?

Hanger door alarms blared - the Rouges were back. Wedge first, followed by Hobbie and Tycho, in close succession - each no doubt battling for second place - as they always did - with the remaining fighters tight behind them. What was left of Lancer Squadron appeared next. Come on. Come on. Rebellion special forces troop carrier arrived. Please. Rouge pilots leap from fighters, embarrassed each other and anyone else within groping distance; whooping and cheering as they did. Endor was shattering. Coruscant was altering. Where are you? Come on! He would be last - she knew him well enough to know that. Damn hero. Needing to make sure everyone got back safely, ducking and dodging and generally showing off until the very last moment. Aircraft after aircraft. Each a huge relief, but still not good enough.

Waiting.

They had fought that morning, as they always seemed to do in times of stress and looming death. She had declared that she was coming with him, better to help him - she was a fairly good shot - than sit and wait for everything to happen without her. He was angry. He wouldn't let her.

Leia smiled remembering, resting her twitching hands against the railing in a vain effort to keep her nervous habit at bay.

"Let me!?" She had yelled at him through the doorway to the fresher of her - their - suite on board the command ship. "That's right," he answered loudly. He was a sight, half naked and furious, hair still wet and shaving cream trickling down his neck, missed by the hasty swipe of the towel a moment ago. He towered over her immediately, covering the ground between them in two easy strides. "I won't let you!" She had taken half a step back from him, glancing around frantically, irrationally wanting to hurl something at him. Something heavy. Let her, indeed. "And what exactly do you expect me to do?! Sit around here waiting for you!? Hoping you make it back to me!?" She vaguely knew she should keep her voice down, sound carried through these walls more than would be expected - she had found that out the hard way months ago, much to her complete embarrassment. But, at the moment she didn't care. Yes, he had shouted back, that's exactly what he expected her to do, and for once could she just for kriffing sake do what he asked her to do?

Their fighting had reached boiling point - as it usually did - but they couldn't leave it for later, standing toe to toe, angry and scared for each other; they might not have a later. Instead of answering, she had grabbed him, pulled him to her desperately. His arms had wrapped around her and he whispered all manner of reassuring promises into her hair as she half cried against him. They had surfaced, sometime later to the blaring of the comm unit and subsequent angry growling of his cranky co-pilot. He needed to be gone already. They were waiting for him.

"Come back to me." she had whispered, watching up at him as he dressed; laying still tangled in the sheets. Paralyzed with the overwhelming worry of loss.

"Always." He smiled slowly, tracing the lines of worry in her eyes before leaning down to kiss her bare shoulder.

"Han-" her next words caught as he pulled his shirt over his head, reaching for the pack.

He had left her before. But this was different. Somehow, everything was different.

"I know." He replied simply, "I love you, too."

Then, he was gone.

Leia's grip on the handrail tightened minutely. She had wanted to stay there. Wrapped up in their sheets, still warm and wait for him to stride back through their door, toss his bag into the corner and kick his boots off against the wall. He would grin at her, in that obnoxiously beautiful way he always did. "Miss me?" He would ask, and he would let her pretend that she hadn't, he would smile and she would smile back. He would be home; where she needed him to be.

But, she couldn't do that. The battle had needed her too. She stayed locked away for as long as she was able, staring at the closed door, bedding pulled tightly around her. His voice still echoing in her ears.

She had made it, finally, up to the bridge, standing quietly at the read-out displays, staring out at the ships hanging around the command centre like small toys. She watched the Falcon float there, tantalizingly close. Imagined the cockpit, the growling, the swearing, the "You can't talk to me like that, I'm a General now" attitude Han causally toss around these days in a successful bid to drive everyone crazy. She could see them in her mind, settling down in their seats, Han would exhale, centering himself. Chewie would be flicking dials and checking pressures. Han would reach across the console and grab his wear worn gloves, sliding them on, flexing his hands against the soft leather. She smiled and watched her floating home straighten out, bank slightly, pull back and shoot forward, careening down at a sharp angle into the planetary grav-well.

The sound in the hanger was deafening; snapping her out of reverie.

Excitement had been steadily reaching a crescendo. It pulsed through the air, vibrating around the hanger, spilling into the hallways and across the crew decks - it was excitement at a magnitude which Leia had never experienced before. Hard to breathe. Impossible to comprehend. Everything they had fought for, killed for, starved for; it had all been worth it. Here they were.

From her current vantage point, discretely tucked into the corner of the top landing staircase to the hanger, she witness everything, feeling it fill her heart and overpower her mind. But she couldn't enjoy it. Not entirely. Not yet.

Waiting.

Her brother was down there. She could feel him happy; rejoicing with the various pilots. toasts were already being raised, the ground assault troops cheering and shouting, the Rouges - true to form - had started pulling crates and containers to make tables and benches, pulling bottles of wine, ale and whiskey out from packing boxes and shipping bags. They were in for one hell of a party. She smiled, teeth softly holding her lower lip as Wedge and Hobbie scramble up and stood together on a familiar looking now-empty shipping container, each holding a bottle of Corellian Reserve, shouting and heckling the other pilots. Suddenly, a cry went up, fists raised and cheers filled the already overwhelmed space.

Leia's feet here moving before her mind caught up with why she was being propelled forward. Dashing down the stairs, she came to a quick stop at the bottom, flanked by Luke and the Rouges. Luke was speaking to her, but she couldn't hear him. She shook her head, brain sluggish. A familiar humming had filled the air. And with a streak of light, another ship vaulted through the still gaping hanger bay doors.

The noise fell away. Everything blurred. Safe. He was safe. He had come back to her.

Luke's arm fell across the back of her shoulders, squeezing her tightly for a quick moment then let her go, pushing her slightly forward. The Rouges whooped and cheered as the battered freighter settled to the deck. Her boots were soft, the small thudding of her feet on the metal floor decking matched the increasing thudding of her heart. The hanger was quickly filling up, Leia pushed passed crew, pilots and excess personnel as she raced towards the newest arrival. Hearing the repulsors hissed in mild annoyance as the hatch opened and lowered, she met the ramp as the familiar silhouette descended. She launched herself at him, laughing and crying at the same time. Burying her face in his neck. He caught her, held to to him and breathed in the familiar smell of her hair.

"I'm back, it's okay." He cooed softly into the curve of her neck. She nodded and hugged him tighter before releasing him slowly. "Drink? I know I could use one." She nodded again and let him tuck her protectively under his arm.

"The Rouges - they found the best stock." She laughed, hugging him close to herself. "It's yours."


	3. Maeror Meror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A missing moment from Courtship of Princess Leia - dealing with the aftermath.

Bathed in the bright white lights of the bustling city outside, the room was cold.

So familiar.

Before sleep could claim her, she had sat, half curled across the headboard, remembering back through the countless nights they had shared here together. Simply being. Stealing time alone as the galaxy drifted along. A small smile crept across her face as her thoughts drifted across the memories of them both relishing the private tradition of breakfast in bed with their children on Saturdays. The twins curled up together in the middle of the large bed, Jaina in her usual place tucked securely against Han's side while Jacen leaned against her knees; laughing as they all watching Anakin turn very pink while unsuccessfully trying to suck up berries through a 'straw' made out of a rolled up pancake.

That memory faded quietly into the dark coldness which had settled into their little private world.

Curling tighter into herself; Leia sighed and drifted off to sleep, memorizing her city; watching the traffic slide silently across her view, half-counting the small dotted lights of repulsor-lifts flying up and down the adjacent structures.

Sometime later, the lights still brightly illuminating the cold empty room around her, Leia gasped and stuttered back further up the bed, dragging the blankets more tightly around her; having woken from a dream she couldn't remember, trying to grasp the edges of it as it fell away from her.

A dark dream.

The kind that had been kept at bay for so many years, only to reappear as she slept in cold loneliness; just as she had another lifetime ago.

They had been whole. A family. Happy. But now?

A nervous energy buzzed across the air. Sweeping through the space with a cold and unnerving certainly. Reaching out quietly, Leia touched the silence. Anakin.

She sighed and tossed the covers off, picking up the discarded sweatpants which hung half off the bottom of the bed, she tugged them on and made her way to the fresher. Auto-active lights on the night setting brightened the space in a dim warm glow. Common place items on the vanity a stark contrast to the impossible turn her life had taken only a short few weeks ago. Han's razor sat once again in its cradle. She had found it, after a particularly bad evening two - no, she stared harder at her own tired face in the mirror - three days ago, on the floor of the shower; having survived being flung across the room, it simply lay waiting for someone to restore it to its proper place.

Han had stormed around the apartment that evening - thankfully while their children were out - hurling destruction and pain, deflecting any attempt for her to get near him. She followed him, having run out of constructive things to try to do. Begged him to stop, look at her, talk to her, anything other than what he was angrily doing. He had stopped suddenly, spun on his heel and grabbed her, kissing her so roughly she jerked away in surprise. He released her just as quickly and stepped back, distant again. Arrogantly staring at her. She moved towards him, desperate to touch him. He turned; brushing passed her and was gone.

No 'fuck-you'. No 'goodbye'. Nothing. Three days.

And now, for the first time in a long time, she was lonely.

Anakin had been noticeably quiet and absent for the last few weeks. Choosing to spend more time away from home then he ever had. Perhaps escaping the pain, anger and his own guilty suffering which swam so easily around this space. Jacen was off-world and Jaina has taken up residence at the squadron barracks. Gods only knew what kind of mischief she would cause there. The thought of her daughter made Leia smile for the first time in days, a real genuine smile.

Jaina was so much like Han. Kindred spirits; each tending to know exactly how the other was feeling or what the other was thinking. It was eerie at times.

Jaina had been steadfastly avoiding Han for the last week or so. Easy enough, now she was living somewhere else. But that was, in itself, strange and worrying. No one had dared to breathe Chewie's name for the last two weeks, for fear of causing Han more pain. That was wrong, Leia knew. They should be talking about him. Laughing at all the trouble he had managed to find with them. The children especially felt the loss. Not more than Han, but differently. Chewie had been a constant in their lives, often around when she and Han weren't able to be. They had always been his first priority. No one had decided that outright, but that didn't change the fact that as soon as they came along, something shifted; the dynamic changed once again.

Dragging a hand around her neck, Leia stepped out into the darkened landing and felt for the top step with her foot. Muffling a curse for there being no manual light - for what must have been the thousandth time since they had moved in when the children were small - she made her way down the stairs. She found him in the living area. sitting on the sofa in the sunken conversation pit across from the large window. He stared unmoving into the night, across the bar where his father had once housed a stunning collection of glassware, bottles and liqueurs. The bar now held nothing - save one bottle of Ruusan Ice Wine Leia tended to drink on rare occasions. Everything else either unfortunately hurled in anger or drank in grief. There was nothing left.

Leia cautiously stepped around him, sliding a light hand across his shoulder. He nodded his head stiffly at her touch and moved slightly over to accommodate her beside him.

They sat in silence. Neither knowing what to say for a long time. Leia shivered in the cold air and moved to wrap a blanket across Anakin's shoulders.

"Dad's not home yet." Anakin stated quietly, his voice strained as his jaw clenched sporadically; as if tensing in time with unspoken words and worries. Leia watched him for a moment longer before replying, willing her voice not to shake and give herself away. He would know of course, he would have already felt it. Her fear, pain and regret. All her worries would be weighing as heavily on his mind as they were on hers. Her baby boy. The sensitive one. He had tiptoed around the apartment for days. Avoiding her, maybe. "I'm sorry, mom."

"This is not your fault, Anakin. None of this is." she replied softy but firmly. "He's out with a few friends, he'll be home soon." she continued, settling herself more comfortably and managing what she hoped was the same calm casual tone she had used so many years ago, when surrounded by three small faces, worried and wondering when their dad was coming home from whatever run-around he had been sent on.

"Mom. Stop. I know."

"What do you know, Little Jedi?" The corner of his mouth turned a fraction upwards at his pet-name, unused for so many years. 'Little' wasn't even remotely correct anymore; he was growing into a man. Tall and broad, he and Jacen both an almost identical match to their father.

"He hates me." Her eyes widened and watered instantly. She moved swiftly, kneeling in front of him, clasping her hands around his.

"Anakin. No. You're father loves you, don't ever think that. He could never hate you."

"He does. It's my fault,"

"No-"

"It is. Everyone knows it's my fault."

"Anakin. Listen to me. Chewie was part of this family, and he loved us as much as we love him. Chewie saved your life. He saved you, so you could save your dad. That's what he wanted. And your dad knows that. He's grieving. That's all. He doesn't hate you Ani. He couldn't never, ever hate you."

Anakin shook his head, staring down at his tightly clasped hands in silence. Leia could feel her heart inside her chest, crushing itself tightly with the effort to continue beating.

"He loves you, Ani." she repeated, moving a hand up to cup his face, letting her fingers trace the tousled ends of his hair. So much pain.

"I don't know, mom, he-"

"It's true baby. He's hurting. We all are. This is just something your father needs to do. He needs to be alone for a bit. I know it doesn't make this better - and it doesn't make it hurt any less. But it is true."

"What about Jaina?" he asked in a harsh whisper, tears threatening in his eyes.

"What do you mean, sweetheart?" She stroked his cheek once more. "What about Jaina?"

"Has he seen her?"

"I don't know. She didn't say."

"She could die mom."

Not trusting herself to speak, Leia nodded quickly a few times. Yes, she could; so many of them did. Every day during the war they lost pilots. They lost friends and family.

"She thinks she's too tough to die. I hope she's right."

Leia forced a smile. "She may stubborn, but she's not reckless. She'll be okay, Ani."

"You don't know that."

No. She didn't, but she couldn't say so. They had to believe they would all make it - Han included. The alternative was too horrid to consider.

"You need to sleep, Ani."

"So do you," he sighed, forcing a crocked smile at her and pushed himself to stand. "Good night, mom."

"Good night my darling. I love you." He smiled at that, and swiftly bent to kiss the top of her hair while he passed her, slowing walking to his room down the long hallway. It wasn't all that long ago, she pondered as she watched him disappear through his bedroom door, when he used to race back and forth down the hallway with Jacen while Han timed them to see who was the fastest. Jaina would sprawl on the floor of the living room pit reading book chips or lean against the stairs watching her brothers, while declaring that while they might be faster, she was undeniable smarter, as she didn't feel the need to run up and down the hall all evening.

Half pulling herself back up the stairs to bed, her mind fell back to only a few months ago. No war, no anger. When they still had Chewie, the children were at home, Mara was well; they were a family. She and Han were happy. She stopped abruptly in the doorway to their bedroom, leaning against the frame for support. She could see it, almost feel it. It buzzed sharply through the air around her and was gone. A memory. An evening alone together nearly three months ago. The children were out, and after a bottle and a half of wine, she had started teasing him about something unimportant and silly. He had lunged towards her, catching her solidly around the waist and hauled her against him, kissing her soundly. Drunk, for the first time in a long time, she giggled and ran her hands up his chest. The night had gone on from there. They had made it - somehow - up the stairs and through the doorway before he scooped her up and tossed her backwards onto the bed. He joined her, climbing across her body, pressing her back and down into the mattress. She had known that look. She loved that look.

How quickly things change. But, she thought sadly as she pushed her way into the room and discarded the sweater again on the bench at the foot of the bed, that's how war always happened; suddenly and without consideration for anyone else. War was indeed a very selfish thing.

Dimming the glass from the windows, Leia slipped out of her sweatpants and into bed, breathing deeply into the t-shirt which enveloped her, now the only thing she wore. Lonely most night lately, she had started to – again – sleep in Han's old shirts. The ones that would never be allowed anywhere expect the mechanical bay or the apartment. The good ones. The ones that smelled strongly of him. Covered in stains and holes. Softly worn and faded.

A light crash from the landing outside followed by a muffled curse as the door slide open pulled her away from sleep once more. A moment of panic was followed quickly by the startling realization of who was making all the noise caused her to remain silent, watching, stock still - the way one might watch a wild thing liable to disappear. A quick glance at the chrono beside the bed told her it was 0530.

Another slur of curses, clearer this time, followed by the solid heavy weight settling on the other side of the bed, was so familiar to her she would have known him anywhere. Something rather solid landed on the floor next to him, and he slid under the covers with her.

Struggling to keep her breathing even and normal, she listened. He wasn't asleep; not completely.

Han stretched out an arm; as he had always done, searching for her. Leia closed her eyes, willing herself not to move instinctively back against him - as she had always done. The bed shifted and pulled slightly as he moved beside her; a rough hand glided up her back, across her shoulders and down her ribs. A telling movement, one which spoke of passion, love and a tender understanding. Or at least, Leia thought bitterly, opening her eyes and grinding her teeth together, one that used to. He hadn't touched her since the night he got home. Not like this. He had become distant; and for that, Leia blamed herself. She should have done something, perhaps denied him the space he thought he needed. Forced him to face her, talk to her. But the silence had continued until there was no way out of it. She had caused this. A sob caught in her throat and she forced it down. Had he mistaken her granting him space for her not caring or trying to help him? The hand on her back wrapped around her lower ribcage and pulled her firmly up against him.

He was drunk and she was angry. Angry and hurt. But his breath, hot and close on her neck, washed the anger from her mind. Twenty years of closeness and instinct couldn't be undone by three weeks of distance, no matter how much damage had been caused.

His movements were heavy; desperate and raw.

Growling something completely incoherent into her ear, he rolled on top of her; one arm still wrapped under her, securing her to his torso, her back pressed flush against him. The other traveled up her back, lifting the fabric of the shirt to gather at the base of her neck. Ducking her head slightly, he was able to pull the soft cloth from her and cast it to the floor behind them. Gathering her curtain of hair away, exposing her neck to him, he growled a second time; a hoarse and broken string of Old Corellian she could just barely make out. He loved her. She was perfect. He was sorry. He was… broken.

Breathing heavily and reeking of cheap drink, he planted a rough kiss between her shoulder blades, his beard scratching her skin, and rested his forehead down against her neck. She lay still; hardly breathing. Waiting. Unsure of what to do. Her body called for him. Desperate to override her mind, throw away the anger and the rejection for even just a few brief minutes. To feel him again.

She didn't need to wait long. Strong, slightly tanned arms planted down on each side of her shoulders, as his breath came hot on the back of her bared neck as he nipped and bit his way across the top of her back, his beard scratching softy. He was murmuring again, disjointed words and an equal blend of basic and Old Corellian sentiments.

His knee wedged between her thighs, opening her to him. Feeling brave as he positioned himself at her, she took a breath and whispered a breathy expletive she had learned from him before they were married. The effect was instant, as it always was. His body covered her, holding her tightly to him and down. Possessive and strong, he moved within her as she pushed back against him carving out a brazen rhythm as he moved heavily above her.

They didn't last, they never did like this. Collapsing first beneath him, she cradled her head on her arms, drained and aching, watching from the corner of her eye as he fell to pieces above her, incoherently and with a final violent thrust.

"I love you, Leia." He whispered onto her shoulder, collapsing again beside her.

"I know." She breathed into the darkness.

xXx

Groggy eyes met her own for a moment before blinking heavily.

"Hi," she whispered finally as his still slightly clouded hazels met hers.

"Oh, hi." His voice was raspy filled with broken glass. Typical after a night of drinking and shouting, not something she had heard in a while, and at that - never with the degree of distance and detachment. It made her feel smaller. Less. Leia furrowed her brow and leaned up on her forearms, looking at his haggard appearance, tracing with her eyes the features she knew so well, untouching, as she was sure he wouldn't allow her.

"I didn't realize you were here," Han cleared his throat and staring up at the ceiling, rigidly ignoring her gaze.

Well, we've had more enthusiastic mornings, she thought, swallowing the growing lump in her throat.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno." He closed his eyes again, bringing both hands up to rub his face and letting them fall onto the pillow beneath him. Leia watched him for a moment, reading body language she had never seen before. They had their moments, all couples did, but this was something different. This was… detachment. That was the only word for it. He had never been detached from her before. Not even after the Hapen fiasco when he had been angry, possessive, demanding and perhaps even aggressive. Rightfully so, really. And her response had shocked her, and even encouraged him. But he had never been detached.

Feeling brave again, she lowered herself down again, moving carefully into the empty space under his arm. He tensed and kept his eyes resolutely on the ceiling. Not wanting to push him, she closed her eyes and forced herself to relax - feigning sleep again. They lay like this for some time. Both uncomfortable and unsure, until Han sighed and shrugged her away from him.

"Don't leave. Please. Please don't leave."

"I need a shower."

"Stay." She was openly begging him now. Half raised on her forearms, she couldn't quite keep her voice steady.

"Leia-"

"Please Han. You've been gone for three days, I was so worried. Please don't go."

"Oh really? You noticed, did you?"

"Don't be like that. Of course I noticed. As did your children. They're scared and worried about you."

"They have the Force, I'm sure they'll be just fine." Han all but snarled at her. He was quite a sight, the clinical side of Leia's brain decided. Naked, beaten up and angry with almost two weeks worth of growth cover his face, he was still devastatingly handsome. And he was hers, she thought stubbornly. Whether he wanted to be or not.

"Okay. I get it." She sat up, allowing the sheet to fall away from her, and smiled inwardly to herself as she watched his eyes widen slightly, taking in her naked form. "You're angry. I understand. I've been there. But don't you dare let them hear you say anything like that ever again. Ever. You can hurt me if you need to. That's fine. But I mean it, Han. I won't let you take this out on them. Never."

He was silent for several moments. His jaw twitching as she watched thoughts flit darkly across his face.

"So you understand, do ya?" He challenged at last.

"Of course I do." she softened, slumping down a little - trying, without words, to offer him an easy return. He didn't work, however. His eyes hardened further and he pointed a jabbing finger in her direction.

"He was my best friend and I left him to die! How the FUCK is anyone supposed to deal with that? How can you possibly know what that feels like?! You weren't there!" Han shouted, advancing on her a few paces. Leia sat unmoving. Perhaps they were getting somewhere - at least they were communicating, abet angrily.

"Han-"

"And don't give me anymore of your Alderaan crap," he snapped. "I've heard enough about it."

"My 'Alderaan crap'?!" She whispered, shocked. Where was this coming from, were they so much worse off than she had thought?

"Yeah. You think you're the only one who has ever lost anything! Well, you're not!"

"Maybe you should go then, Han."

"That's the plan, Sweetheart." He spat and punched the panel on the wall by the fresher and pushed his way through as the door hissed open angrily. As soon as it snapped shut behind him she collapsed. There was a loud bang from inside the fresher unit. The razor again, she assumed.

And as she listened, prone and crying silently on the again empty, cold bed, it struck her - for the first real time - that they may not survive this war.


	4. Endor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the celebration on Endor, Leia's freshly relieved heritage causes her unrest.

Luke seemed older. Tired. It was as if a great burden had been placed on his shoulders, yet - he was unwilling to share it, unable to lighten the immense load. Except with me, Leia though harshly before she had a chance to feel annoyed at her own selfish pettiness; staring up at the grated metal ceiling, the feel of Han's arms wrapped around her, anchoring her to him, his breath hot and slow on her shoulder. Mind restless, flicking through the events of the last few days.

So much had happened. She had been hiding out on Tatoonie for three weeks with Chewbacca; waiting for Luke to formulate a complete plan. It was intricate, detailed and fluid enough to account for a few missteps. Which, Leia had though wryly watching him speak quietly with Artoo before he sent the droids on their way, was good thinking, testimony to the other various disasters they had dealt with in missions past. The journey to Jabba's and everything that had taken place there. Bringing Han home, his commission. Dealing with the High Council and their reactions to her choices. Their Endor mission, Luke leaving, after having dealt her a massive emotional blow. Han's frustration with her the evening before the battle. Her fear. The party. The pyre. Han. She blinked into the darkness.

The night had been a mixture of mounting euphoric celebration and bone-deep, excruciating sadness.

Vader.

Luke had burned the body. Or at least - started too. Evil, she imagined, would not ash quickly.

She hadn't asked him where the pyre was. She hadn't needed to. From the village, the smoke from the blaze could clearly be seen, billowing and curling up into the night. He had returned as the party was starting to get underway.

You need to tell him Leia. He deserves to know the truth.

The truth. Yes. That was a very simple way of putting it. Perhaps he did. Perhaps everyone deserved to know the horrible, vulgar tragedy she now found herself caught up in.

Vader.

She had stood, wrapped in Han's arms, allowing herself to soak there for while longer. One more moment of happiness before she tossed an emotional detonator on everything she wanted. But, Luke was right; he did deserve to know. So, she had tugged on his hand, pulling him, leading him away from the party. Towards the clearing where Lando had rested the Falcon along with the rest of the fighters. She had turned back once, still holding his hand, finding his face in the growing darkness away from the multitude of village torches. The grip of his hand in hers shifted, firming and reassuring. They stopped at the clearing edge and she dropped his hand. "I need to talk to you." She had whispered, "It's important."

He hadn't said anything, only nodded and followed her again as she moved to sit on the medical crates scattered among the abandoned X-Wings.

"Leia?" He called her name quietly and sat down, perched on the edge of a large container. Face worried. She took a seat opposite him and inhaled a ragged breath. She watched him for a moment. Memorizing the way he was looking at her, openly, loving and full of trust. A hard earned love, something deep and personal. That's what shone there. She wanted to remember it. Be able to call it back to herself when she opened her eyes next and he would be gone. It was a look she needed to hold on to forever.

"There's something about me..." She started, and closed her eyes, taking a seat opposite him. She couldn't watch him leave. Couldn't bear to watch the horrified, disgusted look cross his face. It would. She knew it. How could it not? How could he love her once he knew who and what she was? "Something you need to know." She wouldn't watch him leave her.

The words poured from her. Clear in the dark cool night of the forest moon. Sitting alone, huddled against the anger and desolation roaring through her fragile heart.

She didn't hear him move. The blood pounded in her ears. Her own breathing the only thing she could think of. Tears leaked from her eyes and she let them run over her face, creating tiny rivers of solitude down her throat. She waited. Counted to thirty as she used to do as a child. And opened her eyes, choking back a sob when she met his face. He was at her side in an instant. Hands grasping around her back, supporting her, holding her to him.

She had pressed her face into his neck, holding on tightly. Allowed him to calm her, stroke her hair, before pulling back slightly, watching her eyes.

"I love you, Leia." He said earnestly, stroking his thumbs over the tear tracks, tenderly erasing her pain.

"But I'm-"

"Leia." He shook her gently. "I love you."

His hands left her face and fingered her loose hair. She allowed him to pull her against him again. Listened, half numb from fear and cold, as he promised her loved her over and over. She was the same person. She hadn't changed. He hadn't changed. He was hers.

They sat that way for a long time. Small bumps broke across her skin from the chill in the air as she sat back from him. She was exhausted. "Do you want to go back?" She had asked halfheartedly, gesturing to the party still going strong in the distance. Han had shook his head, "come on." He murmured, pulled her up with him and palmed the access hatch to his beloved ship, drawing her inside.

His cabin was exactly how they had left it before arriving at Sullust. The sweater she had forgotten to take with her on to Home One was still laying on the bunk where she had tossed it after Han had applied the last of the bacta gel to her bruised neck. He kissed her temple then, breaking her out of the small spell, and moved passed her to the fresher. She sat heavily on the bunk they had shared only once before, running her hand over the sheets. She had spent weeks here, after taking the necessary leave of absence to hunt for him, holed up alone on that dusty back-world planet, reading data cards and planning. And, she smiled for the first time in since Luke had returned, now here she was again.

Here they were. Finally.

Han had been half asleep when she appeared again from the fresher, sprayed on his back, arms folded typically above his head over the pillow. She stepped lightly over the mess on the floor to join him, hair loosely braided for sleep, clad only in one of his shirts. Perhaps not the modest of sleep attire, but she was passed modesty - at least at the moment. She had worn little else while camping out in this ship, waiting for everything to come together. Waiting to bring him home. And force of pattern being what it was, his worn-soft clothes were now a habit. He was silent, gathering her him gently at first, then, as sleep became to pull on his mind, his grasp tightened as if afraid to lose her, worried perhaps that she would slip away, disappear. She had watched the ceiling above them, wishing sleep would take her as well. Cherishing the fact that he was still here with her. For hours, she watched him; exhausted as he was - still recovering from the affects of the carbon freezing.

Her mind wouldn't stop. It hissed at her. Even here, curled up in the arms of the only real home she had, the events of the day wouldn't give her peace.

Dead. She thought decisively. Vader is dead.

Han's grip on her loosened finally, slacked as he shifted and groaned beside her. She slipped out of the bunk, grabbing the discarded sweater and tugging it over her head and padding softly to the cockpit where she stood, looking over the dark forest surrounding them.

Of course he was dead. The smoke billowing up from the pyre was only just visible out the corner of the viewscreen. Leia tucked her hands into the long sleeves.

She watched the smoke. Lifting and curling towards the stars.

Vader.

Leia was down the ramp, striding quickly across the field before her brain registered she was in motion - or even where she was going.

Something out in that blackness needed her, called to her. She needed to see if for herself. She wanted to watch him burn.

The path was crisscrossed with fallen brush and battle debris, and by the time she reached the clearing where the pyre sat, ignited and scorching, her legs were protesting and the scraping of flora against the sides of her face agitated her skin.

All of a sudden, however, it made no difference.

Vader.

The pyre was enormous, clearly constructed with care. Leia stood in front of it for a long while, transfixed by the dancing and licking of the flames.

Anger flicked darkly inside of her. Crushing against the fragile casing of her heart. It pressed forward and she screamed, sound lost against the crackling and splitting of the heated wood. It was cleansing and she hurled against it again. Over and over until her voice was hoarse.

Leia had no reference as to how long she stayed there, coming to herself something later, sitting frozen on the ground. Chill spreding through her body, replacing all other emotion.

She stood. Walking the circle again, letting the heat from the fire caress her skin, allowing the floating ash to burn and sting at her eyes.

Father.

Her brain rebelled against the idea.

No! Her broken heart cried bitterly. No, never!

She hadn't brought anything with her. No ale to pour over the inferno; no offering to aid in her father's passing. No prayers to commission his soul to the afterlife. She would not mourn him. She would not pray.

Not like she had for Bail.

Not like she had for the millions of beings killed by this burning monster.

Vader.

Leia turned to leave, nerves wrung out and shattered, but as she reached the edge of the clearing, before stepping into the forest again and leaving this place forever, she hesitated. She didn't know what made her do it - but the curse was passed her lips before she registered it's existence. A curse of loneliness and pain. Solitude and wandering.

Let Luke keep his Anakin Skywalker, the man who saved him from the evil of the Emperor, the man who was his father. The creature smoking before her eyes was, and always would be, Darth Vader.

Her eyes locked once more on the face of the mask, softening to the intense heat engulfing it. No more running. The hot air bit her lungs. It was over. She turned, away from the bright light of the blaze, back towards the quiet darkness of the forest.

Back towards home.


	5. Quelii Sector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A missing moment from Courtship of Princess Leia - dealing with the aftermath. (Lucas Canon)

"Please stop!" She cried, squeezing her eyes shut, not bothering to wipe the tears fiercely flowing down her cheeks. Let them run. She took a long shattering breath, ears ringing. Her head ached, the blood pounded in her ears; tension and heartbreak overwhelming her. He didn't care, and Leia didn't blame him. He didn't stop either. Anger thundered from him again, he advanced on her, and she took yet another step back, bumping up against the hard cold metal wall of the Falcon's main hold, eyes snapping open. He had been yelling at her for almost an hour; angry and desperate. Floating at the edge of the Quelii Sector, the events of the past week and a half had come crashing into her.

"Please! Please stop, I'm sorry, please!" she begged again, hands pressing into the wall at her back, her voice cracking. She reached from him, he was in front of her now, uncomfortably close, towering over her. Her hand shook as she moved to place it tentatively on his chest, both to stop his advance on her - she had no where else to go - and to help her move passed the fear which was gripping at her heart. She had never seen this side of him before; it terrified her.

As quickly as her hand made purchase on his chest he batted it angrily away. That was it. She sunk to the floor. Sobbing, her head fell into her hands. He stood above her, glaring down at her small frame, heaving with effort and curled into herself. He was silent now, simply watching her fall to pieces in front of him. She was hiccuping apologies and pleading forgiveness. But it wasn't his to give, not entirely at least.

"Please, Chewie, please. I'm sorry. Please let me be. I'll leave him alone, please just stop..." she whispered as the towering, angry mass of fur squatted down in front of her, silent, blue eyes angry. They stayed regarding each other, Leia's face streaked with tears, breaths coming in short, hiccuping bursts. He growled low, calmer but with the same tightly leashed menace which had bombarded her for the last hour. "But-" she started and he cut her off again, growling louder this time. "I love him, Chewie." She whispered, pleading with the large male wookie in front of her, the large wookie who, up until eleven days ago when she essentially spat on everything which was so important to her, had unconditional loved her. Now though, she watched him watch her, she wasn't sure how she could ever expect him to trust her again.

"I'll do anything I need to, I swear I will." Leia took a deep breath and bent her knees up in front of her, and wrapped her arms around herself, trying desperately to hold on to something.

Chewie was right. About everything. Stupid human. That's what he had called her; repeatedly. She had destroyed more than her relationship with Han. She had betrayed Chewbacca, turned her back on her brother and made a mockery of everything she thought she had been. Han had been right all along; he didn't deserve her. She was no better then any other girl he'd picked up and tried on a for a while. Fake and flaky. She thought she was different. She claimed to be different. He had loved her, and she had thrown all of what that meant back at him. And for what? For nothing. She had tossed him aside, just like everyone else in his life had done. Everyone except the large brown mass hovering in front of her. She had betrayed him for the Republic. Just like Bria. Leia choked back a sob again and pressed the back of her fist to her mouth, stifling a scream which threatened to break.

Chewie stood then, gruffed quietly and walked back towards the cockpit leaving her to deal with the aftermath of what she had done.

xXx

He felt like hell. And had he the strength to stumble into the fresher, he would likely find that he looked like hell too. But there was really no point in confirming what he could feel, so he lay as still as he could bear to in his bunk and watched bright lights blink and fade across his eyelids.

His jaw throbbed, the painkillers he had popped an hour ago hadn't done anything. He needed sleep, but the very one-sided fight going on down the hallway from his cabin ensured that was out of the question. He shouldn't have been surprised, but he was. Chewie always - even from the very start - had a soft spot for Leia. He had always admired her strength, the way she stood up for herself and her cause, how she managed to rile him up so easily. Chewbacca had developed a strangely deep protectiveness towards her early on; she tiny size, her age, and even her innate shyness in their early relationship had secured her a space in the wookie's heart. His feelings toward that bond shifted swiftly however, and it was a heartening sight to watch the two of them deep in quiet conversation, or Leia helping his friend repair the Falcon. Chewie was the only thing standing between Leia and Vader that horrid day on Bespin, and he trusted his friend with her life, something much more precious than his own.

The roaring and rage-filled howling seized immediately, and he strained to make out any noise from the hold. Han had almost decided to get up and make sure Chewie hadn't actually started causing damage to Leia or the Falcon - as unlikely as each of those ideas were - when the door to his room slid open. The room was dark and silhouetted in the doorway was a tiny shadow, a small slip of a woman who had turned his world on its head eight years ago.

Han said nothing, only watched her. She stood undecided in the doorway, something clutched to her chest.

"In or out, Princess." He finally sighed, trying to muffle the definite edge to his voice. That seemed to snap her attention from wherever it had been, and she stepped lightly into the room.

"Han, I..." she started and trailed off, her voice broken and ragged. "I brought you a few things." she finished lamely, offering up the items she had gripped to herself.

"Is it a new face? Cuz I sure could use one." He breathed. She took his flippant comment as an invitation and slipped slowly towards him, as if afraid he'd pull a blaster on her if she made any sudden movements.

"Here," she placed the handful of medical supplies on his bunk.

His. Not theirs. Not anymore. She hiccuped again, new hot tears burning the back of her eyes.

"I'm fine." He closed his eyes. He really didn't have the strength for this. Not yet.

"You're not fine, you're hurt. Badly."

"It'll heal. Don't worry about it." The ever present pain in his chest, which had been there since he walked into the grande foyer twelve days ago and watched the woman he loved, the woman who loved him, easily entertain the thought of a life without him, triggered and expanded.

"No, please," she begged, "Please, Han, please let me help you." And held the bacta gel and bandages loosely in her right hand, lifting them softly, as if to emphasize her plea.

"Leia." He breathed, letting her name wash over him, settle deep into his bones, back where it belonged.

"Yes?"

"Why?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry. I... I love you. I'm sorry. Please, Han. Please forgive me. You have to forgive me, please." He hated to see her cry. Her life had been made up of tiny points of pain and desolation all pieced together, and now, there was one more. One for him.

"That's not good enough, Sweetheart." She choked again, leaning heavily on the bed to support herself, eyes screwed painfully shut.

"I love you." she rasped. He stayed silent, tears of anger prickling the surface of his eyes. His heart clenched. Instead of answering, he reached for the bottle of gel she had brought with her, and smeared a large amount on his fingers, leaning up to rub the healer into his jaw and across his back teeth. The swelling had already started to go down with the capsules Luke had given him after the whole mess was over. Tomorrow, he figured, he would at least look normal again. As far as how long it would take to get back to normal, he had no idea.

"That sounded like on hell of a discussion." he pointed out casually and snapped the lid of the gel back into place. Leia said nothing, instead she nodded shortly and didn't meet his eyes.

"Seemed a bit one-sided though. You surprise me, Princess. You can usually give as good as you take." At this she shook her head, eyes still closed, breathing coming in short spurts.

"Chewie hates me." she finally said, her voice sounded too small, even to herself.

"Chewie's loyal. It's a hard quality to find these days." Han sneered at her, bruised face wincing slightly with the effort of it. She looked at him then, eyes wide and scared.

"Did you love him?" He asked suddenly. Angry now that she seemed so vulnerable.

"No." She breathed. He stared at her, unmoving.

"Did you kiss him?" Tears escaped and rolled again down her cheeks. She nodded an affirmative. He wanted her to say it, to acknowledge it for what it was. A betrayal.

"Answer me!" He shouted, surprising them both.

"Yes, but-"

"Did you fuck him?" he snarled. She met his eyes and tried to shrink away from him. He grabbed her quickly and hard around the top of her arm, squeezing her and pulling her to him, blood thundering in his ears, he could feel his pulse quicken and roar across his throat.

"No." She hissed, appalled at the idea.

"Don't lie to me Leia!" He shouted again, louder this time and jerked her towards the head of the bed, forcing her to see him.

"Han, you're hurting me, please let go." She whispered desperately. He didn't. He couldn't. His face twisted angrily and he growled from between clenched teeth. He must look a sight, the small still-logical side of his brain determined. Bruised, bloodied, utterly exhausted and stark naked, his chest heaving hard and cold sweat threatening at the nape of his neck.

"Answer me!" He growled, his face within inches of hers.

"No, never." She breathed, eyes imploring, small hand coming to rest over his rapid heart. "I'm yours." She whispered softly, hand pressing down on his chest, "always only yours."

He didn't have time to think, he pulled her to him, crushing his mouth on hers. Wrapping his other arm across her small torso he pulled her across his chest. His face ached, his missing tooth throbbing to the point of nausea.

But he didn't care. It didn't matter.

His, was she? Well then.

Han released her for a second, sitting up against her so they were nose to nose and wrapped one hand around her long bedraggled braid, pulling her head back as he dragged his teeth across her throat. The other hand rose to the front of her tunic and with a sharp movement he yanked the front open, pushing the material from her body and pulling her to him again.

He was starting to scare her but she held herself silent. She deserved everything he needed to do, she would tolerate anything in an attempt to fix the catastrophic mess she has created, she needed him back.

He flipped her suddenly then, pinning her down beneath him. Hands freed her bra and tossed it aside as his mouth attacked her throat and down her breasts, he pinched and teased her as she lay moaning and agitated beneath him. Hands landed on her hips, pressing her down solidly into the mattress of the oversize bunk, the bunk they had shared for five years. Five years which she had turned her back on so quickly. His fingers slide across the waistband of her pants, hooking into the sides and yanked them down to her knees, leaving her bound and helpless under him. Han bent his knee between her legs, pinning her hard to the bunk with her leggings. She wasn't wearing panties, and was exposed to him, mouth slightly open, breathing hard. Scared. He knew he should stop, this was hardly what either of them needed. They should really get some sleep and talk it over in the morning. But she squirmed beneath him just then and his thin strand of reason snapped.

Fuck talking, he thought angrily and descended his mouth on her once again.

Her skin was flushed and bruises on her arm were starting to show, but she didn't care. She wanted to touch him, but the hand wrapped around both her wrists pinned her helpless and all she could do was feel him, hard and ready above her.

He slid a hand deftly between her legs and she gasped.

"Did you want him, Leia?" He rasped, mouth near her ear.

"No. Never."

"Did you want him to touch you?"

"No! Han, please." She cried out.

"You are mine. Do you hear me? Mine!" he growled and slid a finger into her, watching her face intently. She bucked beneath him, eyes burning into his.

"Yes, yours." she moaned. "I love you," she breathed again, her hips straining to lift up towards him. The intrusive digit slid from her and he grasped her leggings, tugging them completely off of her legs, capturing a foot and bending her leg up across his hips and he settled fully between her thighs and brought his hand from holding her wrists down to land on either side of her small shoulders.

"Look at me, Leia." she forced her gaze back to his. It was unsettling, he had never used her name so much in the span of such a sort time. It made her nervous.

He slid into her, taking her fulling to the hilt, holding there, letting the size of him fill and stretch her. She was wonderfully tight, their months apart while he was off-world clearly noticeable. She groaned and tried to move, tried to alleviate a fraction of the mounting tension inside her. The pressure of it was bordering on unbearable, she needed him to move.

And then he did. It was too much. It wasn't enough - she couldn't decide. Her arms were leaden, heavy and clumsy, she dragged them across his shoulders, holding onto him, hips rising to greet his thrusts.

Holding her eyes, he moved above her, powerful and beautiful. He repeated her name, a mantra against the anger and fear which had been drowning inside of his heart for days.

Neither lasted. She cried out and he collapsed on top of her, tucking her under him protectively, hands cradling her head.

Breathing hard, he rested his forward against hers, feeling her breath hot against his face. He pulled out after a moment and kissed her softly on the throat, rolling over to gather her to him. She was asleep within seconds, a familiar, small heavy weight in his arms. He brushed the hair away from her face, she didn't stir, only mumbled his name and, sighing, nestled closer.

They weren't finished, they hadn't hardly even begun to repair the damage done in such a short period, but it was a start. They were here.

Tomorrow he needed answers, real answers. But tonight, he simply needed to hold her.

xXx

Leia woke slowly. She let the familiar hum of the sublights surround her, bringing her back from her dream of forests, bonfires, skyscrapers and streaking stars. They still hadn't jumped. Waiting perhaps, maybe they would simply dump her out the airlock. He had threatened to do that before, on a long haul moving base from Yavin4. She had been annoying, and he was sick of her.

She lifted her arm, intent on pulling Han closer to her, to whisper something delicious dirty to wake him. But her arms were heavy and her chest burned. The day before flooded back to her and she sat up quickly, covers falling off of her, revealing small splotches across her chest and down to her stomach. Hardly love-bites, she thought sadly and swung her legs off the bunk.

The light in the fresher blazed on, and she stared, exhausted and drained, at her reflection in the mirror. The bruises on her arm, left vividly by Han last night, stood deep and dark against her skin. Her body tingled and buzzed, thrumming wildly at the vastly unknown future.

Her ears rang; thundering still with the angry howling from last night. Stupid human.

Yes, she agreed mentally nodding her head at Chewie. Yes, she was. But what now?

Last night hadn't given her any indication of what he wanted or what she could expect from him. Yesterday had been a blur of emotion. She felt wrung out, raw and ashamed. Chewie's ferocity had frightened her, not that he wasn't entitled to it, but the depth and intensity had thrown her at first. Han had been quiet, in pain and reserved since they boarded the Falcon, and she has tiptoed around the ship for a few hours, hiding in the fresher and generally hiding from inevitably. She heard him shift in the room beside her, and quietly call her name. She replied, and hastily splashed water on her face, taking one last look at herself in the mirror and thumbed the door open.

Brighter than when she left, the cabin's lights were dialed down to a dim night-time glow; 'Mood lighting' he had always called it, with a smile and a wink which never failed to make her blush. He was staring at her, hard. Looking straight through her. "You okay?" He finally asked, voice short.

She nodded and stepped lightly to the side of the bed, stooping to pick up the bacta gel which had been kicked to the floor last night. He held out his hand wordlessly and she handed it to him, standing still and silent, unsure, beside him. His features softened slightly and he held the blankets open, a wordless invitation which she seized quickly and climbed in beside him. Squeezing the gel out onto his fingers, he surprised her, rubbing instead the bruises dotting her arm. "I'm sorry." He whispered. Leia shook her head. "I hurt you. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She whispered back, her voice sounding far too loud in the quiet space.

"No. It's not."

They sat in silence as he massaged the tingling healer into her skin.

"You hurt me," his voice was small, so unlike him. Leia settled closer to him, resting a small hand again on his chest.

"I know." She breathed. She was wrenched. She had hurt him - causally tossed him aside for someone shinier; someone new. Someone who didn't know her, didn't love her. Han had freed her, and in turn had given her back to herself. Restored to her what she hadn't even known she had lost. She had let herself be led into destroying the person she loved and trusted above anything else. "I'm sorry. I love you."

He looked at her then, a small amount of cynicism creeping into his eyes, mixing with the pain that swam there. "You sure about that?" The stubborn set to his jaw made a smile tug at the corner of her mouth.

"Always."

He breathed out heavily and touched a strand of hair which had fallen near her ear.

"I promised you I wouldn't leave." He stated, she opened her mouth to interrupt him, to apologize again and beg him to forgive her. "No, let me finish." He swept his thumb across her lower lip, swallowing, holding her eyes. "And I promised you, I would never let anyone hurt you. I promised to protect you. Remember?" she nodded, she did remember. He had promised her that. Over and over again through the years. He had promised to stay with her on a small out of the way planet she couldn't ever remember the name of, several months after the destruction of the first Death Star. She was worried, their contact hadn't shown up and everything was starting to fall apart. A member of their team had had enough and gone out in search of food. Han argued with the man, they should stay together, if things got messy, he was leaving first chance he got. She had sat back into the dark window. Fine, she had thought, let them all leave. The man stomped out anyway and the couple fell back into silence. She waited. Waited for him to leave her too. But he didn't. They didn't speak. Just sat, staring into the dark. Han had started pacing at 2100, it had taken half an hour for Leia to snap. "Leave then, I know you want to. Go." He had stopped, staring at her, recognizing her outburst for what it actually was. She was afraid.

"I'm not leaving you."

"I know you're bored." She snapped.

"I am. But I'm not leaving you."

"Why not? This is a mess anyway."

"It is. But I'm not leaving you."

Aggravating man. He was always threatening to leave. Why not now?

"But-"

"Forget it, Princess. I'm staying put."

"Whatever."

They lapsed back into silence and had eventually both fallen asleep – Leia still in the window, Han leaned back against the sofa, feet propped up in front of him, blaster resting on his knees. She woke up before him the next morning at daybreak, disoriented and frozen, curled up in the small space and marveled that he was in fact, still there. Their wayward party joined up again the next day and their departure happened without incident.

He had made that promise many more times over the last seven years. And each time it pulled at her heart.

"I remember." She whispered, feeling the cold fear creep through her again as she recalled his desperate promise, the venom in his voice crackling as she clung to him, terrified, in the bowels of Cloud City, waiting. She huddled between his legs, pressed tightly into him, face tucked securely to his chest. She could feel his heart. He was terrified too. Scared for her; for them. Blaming himself for their situation. "Leia," he whispered desperately, squeezing her tightly as he spoke. "Leia, listen to me. I won't let them hurt you." She had shaken her head and said nothing. He couldn't promise that. They would, and he couldn't stop them. "No, listen. I won't. I'll protect you, Sweetheart. I promise." She had kept quiet. She didn't believe him, and he knew that. Instead she kissed his throat hard, feeling the blood pounding under her lips.

And, against all odds, he had protected her. They had come for them and he fought - desperately keeping her behind him. Guards finally seized him and dragging him away from her. She was left alone, listening to his screaming from the other side of the wall, knowing that – if not for him – it would have been her, hating that it wasn't.

It had been worth it, he had breathed later, battered and beaten, lying on the sliding slab as she stroked his hair. Better him than her.

She shook her head against the memory.

"I meant it Leia." He said softly, still fiddling with the strand of hair between his fingers. "I'll always mean it."

"Are you sure?" she whispered. He crooked a smile at her. "I have wanted you from the moment I saw you, and I have loved you since you ordered me into a garbage shoot and called me 'Flyboy'. I'll never stop, Leia. I can't."

She launched herself at him, clutching him around his shoulders, trembling with the massive effort not to cry. He held her tightly to him, feeling the smallness of her under his hands.

"So," he said, easing her back in front of him after a moment, their noses were almost touching. "That being said, I need to know if you still feel the same."

"I do. I'm so-" he stopped her.

"I know. I'm sorry too."

"Why? You didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one who hurt us."

"Yes I did. I let everyone believe that I was happy, including you."

"What do you mean?" her heart clenched. Oh Gods.

"Marry me, Leia."

"What?"

"Marry me."


	6. Perlemian Trade Route

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post ROTJ, pre-COPL. Han and Leia take a quick, well deserved vacation. Just for fun. (Lucas Canon)

"You know, I'm going be honest, when you asked me if I wanted to go on vacation, this really wasn't what I had in mind."

He spun around to face her, mock seriousness plastered smugly on his face. "Does this somehow not meet your high royal standards?"

Merely raising an eyebrow at him, she added, "Well, floating aimlessly around the Perlemian Trade Route really isn't what the word 'vacation' inspires."

He spread his arms wide and grinned at her, "Permission to disagree, Your Highness," ignoring her narrowing eyes, he continued, "my idea of a vacation is you, me and open space. No dignitaries, no bodyguards, no political dinners. Which is what would happen, because that's what always happens when we go somewhere. As soon as we land you're whisked away from me and then I have to dress up and act happy about it. Nothing like that can happen here." There was a note of triumph in his voice which didn't go unnoticed.

Leia felt a pang of guilt. He was right, that's what always happened. No matter where they went or how long they went for. Something always came up. Someone always 'needed' to see her.

That was the problem, she thought sadly as she watched pride for his plan fill his eyes, with heading up a fledgling government; there was always something.

"So - let me get this straight - this is actually planned, we aren't just floating around because we can't actually do anything else."

"That's hurtful."

"Sorry," she smiled softly at him, "but after the epic Mon Cal holiday failure last year, I just wanted to check."

"Are you ever going to let that go?"

Leia laughed, releasing her casual hold on the door frame and came towards him, placing her hands lightly on his shoulders before settling herself comfortably in his lap.

"Maybe. Someday."

Han made an indeterminate noise at the back of his throat and rolled his eyes.

"Did you plan to feed us?" Leia asked against his chest.

"Of course I did."

"Are you cooking, or should I?"

Han barked a laugh and shifted under her. "I would like us to have at least a few more days together before death," he started to stand, sliding Leia to the floor as she glared at him. "I'll cook."

XxX

"I don't remember the last time I saw you read."

Leia looked up from her book and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"A novel," he corrected, sitting down beside her on the bunk and pulling her legs across his lap, settling her close beside himself. "How is it?"

"Exhausting."

"Not enjoying it?"

"Not really, it's more than a bit predictable, but..." she flipped a page dramatically "I'll finish it."

"You don't have to."

"I know, but it's the only book I brought and I would very much like to read something that doesn't have to do with my job."

Han laughed and ran his hands lightly up and down her calves. "We could do something else..."

Leia lowered her book and smiled shyly. "Oh yeah?"

Han's answering grin made her laugh.


	7. Sullust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing Moment from ROTJ set during the flight from Tatooine to the rendezvous point at Sullust.

How long had it been since he woke up beside this woman?

His arms moved on their own accord, wrapping around her; pulling her closer.

A mumble escaped her as she sighed, settling further back into him.

They had fallen sleep together in silence. To emotional to speak, to tired. Crushed together, listening to the low humming hyper-drive which had come to mean so much to the both of them. That sound had always been home to him and from what he managed to understand, it had become home to her as well.

In the deep night-time glow of the overhead lighting he watched the room around them. After hours of breaking in and out of consciousness, the effects of the hibernation sickness were finally starting to fade. For the first time, in what felt like a lifetime, he could see and think clearly.

Small snippets of her life without him lay everywhere. The not too faint scent of her perfume flowed from the bedding surrounding them as if it was meant to be there, belonged there, the way she casually had grabbed her clothes from the floor of his cabin before heading to the fresher. The data cards she had once confined to the lounge during the slow fateful limp to Bespin, now littering the ledge above his head.

He hadn't asked how long it had been. Part of him was too afraid of the answer. How long had been away from her? The threat hissed through the darkness at him, causing him to grasp her tighter. Years. The stillness screamed at him. Years.

The small hand which came to rest against his jaw dragged him out of the shadows. He looked down at her, the light cotton tank exposing her neck to him. The skin there which had been soft, white and perfect was now marked with darkened splotches and streaks.

He kissed the top of her head, inhaling her.

Leia's eyes fluttered open just then, she turned in his arms, pulling herself up to face him in the dim.

"Hi."

He smiled lightly, leaning in to kiss her again.

"How do you feel?"

"Oh, I'm fine."

She looked at him like she didn't quite believe him, then nodded.

"How are you doing, you alright?" his voice tight, he stared at her, reading her.

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Leia-"

"Really. I'm fine."

Saying nothing, still staring at her, he gently raised his hand to brush against the darkened skin of her neck.

She looked away, embarrassed. He hadn't seen her dressed as she was in the palace, and for that, she was grateful. He knew, of course, she was sure he did. But knowing something happened and seeing it were different. She hadn't wanted him to see her like that, no good would come of it, he would blame himself and she wouldn't have that.

Chewie had helped her remove the collar as soon as they had gotten Han settled on board the Falcon. The bruises left behind weren't deep, they would fade quickly, and until now, she hadn't worried about them. A quick glance to his face told her for certain. He knew.

"Lando told me." Still stroking her neck carefully, answering an unasked question.

Of course he did, she thought rather bitterly, what else did he tell you. "Oh." She hadn't looked back at him, though she knew he hadn't moved, hadn't budged, hadn't stopped staring at her.

"Leia-"

"I'm fine." She met his eyes, determined.

"He hurt you."

It wasn't a question. She dropped her eyes again, opened her mouth; but no sound would come to her. She nodded. He leaned away from her suddenly, as though struck, anger flashed across his face, jaw set, hands clenching into fists. He lashed out quickly, striking the wall behind them. She jumped startled. He saw her then, anger dissolving into pain. Guilt. Reaching out, he gathered her to him, buried his face into her battered neck. Stunned, she wrapped her arms around his shaking frame. He was crying into her hair, whispering I'm sorry, I'm sorry repeatedly.

"Hey" she pushed back from him, grabbed his face, "none of this was your fault. I mean it. I knew the risks and I would do it again. I love you. I needed you back." there was a small pause, as her thumbs started to stroke his jawline. "I need you now." she finished quietly.

"Well, I'm never leaving. Ever."

"Good, I'll count on that."

A knock on the cabin door startled them both. Lando's voice came through, muffled and a bit embarrassed to be disturbing them. They were coming up on their third jump and would be at Sullust in just over three hours.

Han gathered her to him again. Pulling them back into the safety of sleep.

"Sleep my Princess. I'm back. I wont let anything hurt you."


	8. Serenno Orbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Missing Moment from the massive black hole which is between ANH and ESB.

"Do you mind?"

With a quick glance over his shoulder, he waved a hand to the seat beside him.

She smiled quickly before tucking her feet underneath of her in the way she always did when it was just the two of them and she wasn't feeling feisty. .

"Captain Freedom is starting to get up my nose." Leia sighed, sinking deep into Chewbacca's oversized chair.

"Starting?" Han scoffed. It was true. The young bright-eyed recruit assigned to them for this mission was overly excitable. He had peppered them both with questions and strategy information and batha-shit stories for the last seven standard hours. Or, at least, Leia rolled her eyes upwards and counted the lights on the console above her head, he had been doing that to her for the last seven hours. Han had sauntered into the lounge, stood for the count of approximately nine breaths, scowled, shook his head at her minutely and headed back to the cockpit. Chewie has stuck around marginally longer, making disparaging remarks which Leia misinterpreted to their comrade as friendly conversation until the novelty wore thin and he left her alone with the boy.

"He was you're idea, Sweetheart." Han sighed and ran both hands tiredly down his face.

"I suppose. This is a good first mission for him though. Better than sitting neck deep in sewage and blood, listening pointblank executions above your head."

"That was awful." he breathed, suddenly transported back to the second - or the first, if that business on the Death Star didn't count - mission they had taken together. They had been alone, crouched in the dark of an ancient cellar, his hands shaking so hard from both chilling cold and furious terror that he could hardly hold his blaster rifle. Leia had huddled into him, uncaring to keep her usual careful distance between them. He had held her, a life-grip on her as silent, frantic tears streamed down her face, while her entire body shook with fear and quiet panic against him, face buried into his throat; comforted by his own rapid heartbeat.

"Yes it was." she agreed quietly, remembering the same re-con mission, where they could do nothing except listen and try to forget the horrors of the surface assault above their heads.

They sat in silence for a few moments, uncomfortable suddenly with the fog of such a personal memory surrounding them.

"Where's Chewie?" Han asked, sidestepping the atmosphere altogether and dragging the conversation back to a more comfortable place.

"Asleep." She rolled her eyes.

"He abandoned you, eh?"

"You both did!"

"I've been busy."

Leia shook her head, she liked him like this. Alone together, they found a different footing with each other. Something they were unable to recreate in the company of others. Both too stubborn and headstrong. Both unable to give up even an inch. But traveling like this, quiet and peaceful in the safe familiarity of the Falcon's cockpit, they were different. They were better.

"You should get some sleep." He finally said.

"So should you." Leia covered a yawn with the back of her hand.

He raised an eyebrow and leered at her.

"Don't." she deflected, eyes staying forward. She didn't need to see him to know what he was doing.

"It's worth thinking about." he sighed and stretched again, now unable to not think about it. This was going to be a very long six days with the new boy on-board to get underfoot. He would much have preferred it be just the two of them.

"Where is Captain Freedom sleeping? Did you assign him anywhere?" She asked after a moment, another yawn threatening.

"So official. And I told him I didn't care where he slept as long as it wasn't in the main cabin or in the way."

"Oh excellent. So he's in crew?"

"Probably. Why? Is that a problem?"

"No, not really, it's just means then I'm left with medbunk…" She trailed off and shook her head exasperated. "No, Han!"

"I'll behave." he offered, dropping his voice unconsciously, praying - even though he knew what a long shot it was - that she would say yes.

"You won't. You don't even know the meaning of that word. And it would be entirely inappropriate in any case."

"How is it 'inappropriate'," he air quoted her the way he knew she hated and got a swift glare for his efforts. "For us both to get a decent night's sleep. Friends can share." He concluded.

She merely shook her head again, bottom lip now caught against her top teeth. He was pushing her too far.

"Tell your friend to take the medbunk then." Han changed tracks, it was no good to get her mad at him. That would make for an incredibly long six days.

"He's not my friend. He is a colleague. And I'm not kicking him out a bunk he was allowed to choose. That's rude."

"He likes you." There was a slightly different tone to his statement, as if finding something unpleasant with it. It was curious and she allowed herself a glance over her shoulder to see him properly and found him watching her intently. She blushed, invisible in the dark cockpit.

"No, he doesn't. And what would that matter?" She denied quickly, having been caught watching him.

"Yeah he does. I can tell. He'd move if you asked him." long arms stretched above his head.

"Men don't like me, Han." Her voice was so quiet and small even in the stillness of the sealed space that he swiveled to watch her at her words, expecting to find her slightly upset, but she wasn't. She was calm and serene, watching the swirling vortex of hyperspace encasing them.

"Men want to conquer me. Acquire me. Like a prize at the end of a strategic game. They want me, but are not interested in liking me."

He openly stared at her. She had never, not in the entire course of the near year and a half that he had known this rather remarkable woman had she ever divulged this kind of deeply personal information. And she was wrong. His heart rate jumped. So, so wrong. She wasn't a prize, true enough; but she was worth fighting for. Worth dying for. She was worth a hell of a lot more than she was giving herself credit of.

She was an aspiration.

"It's fine. Ice Princess, remember?" She smiled at his expression. His eyes light up at that term, as if ready to defend her, rally and deny ever knowing about it. But he knew; they both did, and lying about wouldn't help anyone. "It's fine. I know what people think of me," she stopped as if remembering a rehearsed speech. "I don't need to be liked in order to lead and serve a purpose."

They drifted into a less comfortable silence this time.

"Well. I like you." Han finally stated' a half whisper, the terror of vulnerability swirling around his mouth as the words slipped out.

"You do?" It was her turn to be surprised.

"Well. I like you today." He smiled sideways at her, effectively breaking the tension and switching gears yet again. "So, what's Goggles doing out there?"

"Goggles? He's starting the mission report."

"I thought you liked to do that."

"I do, but he needed a job." she sighed and leaned her head back, giving him a chance to admire her throat while she shut her eyes. "Goggles?"

"Rogue Squadron calls him that."

"Why? And it better not be because he wears glasses or something because if it is then you-"

"Hey, calm down. It's just that he wears his test-flight goggles around his neck all the time. He probably even wears them to bed - we should check on that later. Everywhere."

"Really?" she laughed lightly at that, not having noticed, and picked up the gloves laying on the console in front of her.

"He wants everyone to know he's a pilot." Han shrugged, in a small way understanding the green-eared kid. When he was that age, he would have giving anything for people to take him seriously. He would have given anything to be a pilot. He had, and it had cost him dearly in the process.

"That's not hard. He could just be annoying and arrogant like you." she smiled sweetly at him, wrapping the fingers of his old piloting gloves around her wrist. It was distracting.

"I'm liking you today, remember?"

"Sorry."

They sat again, quiet and comfortable for a while longer, both lost in whatever the darkness around them held.

"Leia-"

"Yes." She breathed, nervous at how she loved the feel of her name from his lips.

"I wanted to talk to you, tell you, actually…"

She turned her chair to face his, though he would not meet her eyes.

"It's been fairly quiet lately, on my end. Jabba seems to have moved on - it won't last forever - but I've been thinking I…"

He swallowed and she leaned closer, draw by something in his manner, something new and open and beautiful.

"I'm stayin'. With you." Her breath hitched and he finally met her eyes. "With the Alliance, I mean."

Her smile flashed in the small space, and she let out a half sobbed laugh.

"Well," her voice lit with mirth, "On behalf of myself and the Alliance, that is very good news."


	9. Senate District, Coruscant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet moment after Leia's birthday. Fluffy and just for fun.

"Another?" Han asked, leaning down behind her, running a hand lightly down her throat, tipping her head back with the side of his thumb. His nose trailed slowly down hers and he kissed her, delaying any response.

The party had broken up well over an hour ago. And now, with the children fast asleep, they finally had the rest of the night to themselves. Leia had started the long cleanup process when Han had returned from the bedroom, a small navy box in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. He had herded her gently away from the momentous mess littering the kitchen, with the promise that it would all still be there in the morning. The place was a disaster by any standard: balloons, streamers, empty glassware and small white china plates strewn across every available surface. But he was right – it would keep.

"Mmm... please." Smiling lazily back at him, Leia curled her bare feet under herself and settled further into the deep-set sofa, listening to a mid-rim soul band coo softly around them from the in-ceiling speakers. The heels she had bought especially for tonight had been discarded hours ago, kicked off somewhere in the dining room - locating them was another task for tomorrow.

Han leaned over her then, picking up the discarded wine glass off the dark wood side-table and placing a kiss on her bare shoulder. Tilting her head to the side to encourage the gesture, she pulled her hair across her neck, gathering it away. They hadn't been like this for a while. Hectic schedules, coupled with the ever growing commitments and complications which came along with raising three small children, meant they had learned to cherish moments like this. Moments which, as both of them would attest to, came around far too seldom.

He kissed her lightly again before standing and moving over to the bar on the far side of the room.

The living area they sat in was a large one, and secretly the reason Leia had pushed to buy the apartment in the first place. With room enough for three growing children, two offices and the master bedroom complete with a large ensuite which was tucked away with grandeur at the top of a curved staircase. But to Leia, the openness of the living space, with the full length windows and conversation pit complete with a built in holo projector and in-ceiling sound - which opened out to the dining room and kitchen, added something to this space which no other home had offered. Han had been pulled in by the large balconies, one on the main floor featuring sliding glass doors which opened seamlessly to an enclosed outdoor lounge and the smaller private deck off their bedroom – which in this particular district was something few apartments had. His insistence their children (and himself) be able to actually get outside on a daily basis was paramount. The large soaker tub in the master ensuite helped seal the sale further.

The memory made her smile. Their first home. Well, as a family at least, the unwelcoming ultra-modern bachelor pad they had landed in after the liberation hardly counted as a "home". She had been nearly desperate to leave the overwhelming feeling of confinement and utility for the comfortable, welcome openness their new apartment held.

Clinking glassware could be heard over the soft sultry jazz now playing overhead. The hi-ball and wine glasses were a strange memento as well, bought before they were even married, at an auction several levels down on Coruscant. They were also rather Imperialist in design, but Leia had loved them. Handcarved and label-less; from an unknown artist in one of the colonies, the set was simple in design and every glass a slightly different size. Often commented on by guests, the glassware had become an unintended conversation piece.

The bar was set against the full height transparasteel wall which ran the full length across the back of the living room, it offered a breathtaking view of the city as guests helped themselves to any number of fine reserves which Han had collected over the years, and was secretly very proud of it. The bar itself was antique of unknown heritage. They had picked it up off-world and lugged the damn thing back with them. Bought originally to be the centerpiece in Han's office, they had managed to drag it into the living room and there it was staying – at least until his office was finished.

It was a bit eclectic, Leia thought, as she watched her husband pour from decanters they had received as wedding gifts. She smiled, biting lightly on her lower lip, thinking of their wedding. They had left straight afterwards, desperate to get away. Returning, weeks later, to chaos. Gifts has taken over, cluttering the apartment, piled everywhere. It had taken them days to organize, open and catalogue everything. Having not bothered to register being in the middle of apartment hunting – on top of not really having the time - they had received a fairly bizarre assortment of gifts, most of which they kept; among those were the various bar pieces from all corners of the galaxy as well as a strange metal sculpture, they had wrongly believed to be an ornament, until their first anniversary when the thing lit up and started to chime at midnight, the noise reverberating around their small bedroom; scaring the daylights out of both of them – it now lived in Han's unfinished office.

Tonight though, despite the beautiful lights of the city glittering around them and the hypnotic stream of traffic across the sky, Leia appreciated a far greater, private view. Han stood in front of the bar, tall and sure, white tailored shirt cutting a sharp contrast against the lights of the city laid out before him. He had been relaxed that evening, and after the last few challenging weeks, it was a nice break for both of them.

"Wine?" He questioned, breaking the spell, not looking up from his task.

Leia shook her head, "No, Whiskey Sweet, I think."

"You sure?" he asked, setting his tumbler aside he reached under the cabinet and produced an unopened small glass bottle filled with a slightly murky, dark plum liquid.

"Of course."

"I don't how you can drink this, it's terrible," he replied, sauntering over to her, offering the glass with a smirk. Taking the drink, fingers tracing lightly over the hand carved etching on the face of the tumbler, she smiled at him.

"Happy birthday, Sweetheart." He whispered, lightly touching his tumbler to hers.

"Thank you, tonight was wonderful."

"Good. That's what it was supposed to be."

Leia took a shallow sip of her drink and tried not to pull a face. He was right, it really was awful.

Glancing over to find him watching her, she made a face and shivered dramatically. Han laughed, scooping her feet from under her and gently placing them on his knees, pushing the gathers of fabric aside, clearing way for his hands on her calves.

"This is so bad. Can I have a sip of yours?" without answering, he offered her his drink.

"Let me make you something else." he offered after a moment.

"No, it's fine. It won't feel like my birthday without it."

It was a small, inside commentary which had started shyly a long time ago. Well before they thought of themselves as having secrets with each other.

They had been holed up in a dump of a town, on a backwater beaten up planet, waiting for an answer from local government officials on supplying for the Rebellion when Han had strolled into the living area of the small, trashy hotel room they were sharing, darkly dressed, blaster at his side.

"You're leaving?" Leia asked, annoyed with herself that her voice sounded slightly panicked.

"Yeah, seeing as it's only 2200 and we don't have to be anywhere tomorrow, I figured I'd get some air. Don't open the door to anyone; I have a key. I mean it, Princess. No one." She curled herself into the corner of the large threadbare sofa and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and rolled her eyes at him.

"Hey, I mean it. This isn't exactly the best part of town." Han took half a step towards her, uncertainly flitting across his face.

"I'm not a child, Han. I don't have to be left alone in a hotel room with specific instructions and a code word. I'll be fine. Go. Have fun." she made a flippant gesture of annoyance with her small hand and bent her head even further over the book she was pretending to read.

He stood watching her for the span of several heartbeats, Leia could feel herself tensing, a warming blush crawling up her chest towards her throat. That always happened when he studied her, it was so annoying.

"Come with me."

Her head snapped up so fast she saw stars. "What? Come with you where?"

"Out. Could be fun. Like I said; we have nothing planned tomorrow, might as well go blow some steam and check things out."

That was the last thing she had expected, and it threw her off guard, and besides that, she hadn't really ever been the type to 'blow off steam'. She clung to her book staring at him, frantically trying to quell the warmth with had now certainly reached the base of her throat. "I'm not dressed. I haven't showered, you should just go. It'll take me a while to get ready."

"I'll wait. Go, go get changed. Take your time." Han turned toward the comm installed next to the door, and pressed a quick code. Leia sat watching him in dumb silence. "What are you doing?" she finally asked.

"Ordering a drink. You said you'd be a while, right?" This was all becoming too familiar, too comfortable, she thought as she watched him kick off his boots and fall causally into the large chair opposite her. This was very 'couple-ish' and she wasn't sure if she was comfortable with it. But, she thought, as she stood slowly and turned towards her room, if he was able to be friendly, then maybe this was a good idea, the alternative was a very long assignment and she didn't feel up to fighting with him any more than they would normally. "Wait, you ordered a drink? How is that even possible? We can't get them to bring us fresh towels." She spun around at the door and quirked her head at him.

He laughed at her expression, "Trust me. This place has more alcohol than it does clean laundry. And they'll do pretty much anything to make an extra credit or two. Now, go! We're losing daylight." He dismissed her with a smile and a quick gesture.

It hadn't taken her as long as she thought it might. Han had only gotten through half a glass of cheap whiskey when she emerged from her room; makeup dark and dramatic, hair pulled up into a messy pile, clad darkly as well, black slim leggings and boots with a loose deep green sweater over the only black camisole she had.

He caught her eyes and held her gaze a heartbeat too long, downed the rest of his glass and stood. "Ready?" she merely nodded, following close behind him.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, she thought for what must have been the hundredth time, as she caught their reflection again in a darkened window of a closed shop. They made an attractive sight, she admitted begrudgingly to herself. His tall, self-assured swagger complimenting her small frame nicely. "Here." He interrupted her musings, placed his arm around her shoulder and steered her into a smoky doorway off the street. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim. Han didn't seem bothered and ushered her into a booth in the back corner, catching a busty server by the arm and ordering something quickly as they passed. Leia tried to shrug out from under him, panic starting to creep its way into her mind.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"I said I'm fine," she snapped, instantly regretting it. They were getting along, and now she had ruined it.

"Okay." Han drew his arm off of her and placed both elbows on the table, jaw twitching as his eyes scanned the bar. She knew he was checking exits, he always did. Force of habit, she knew.

"Sorry." She whispered. Han didn't reply, simply nodded and kept his eyes away from her. At that moment, drinks appeared in front of them and she grabbed hers, shuddering slightly as she took a large gulp of the bitter liquid.

They sat in silence, growing comfortable with each other, watching the scene around them buzz and flow. An endless throng of beings - mostly alien - skirt around them.

"I need another. Same for you?" Han broke the silence, watching her with a look she couldn't quite place.

"Yes, please. No actually I'll have a Ruusan Ice Wine, if they have it."

"You sure? Have you ever had it? It's vile stuff. Really, you should get something else."

"No, it's fine. That's what I want. And yes, I have tried it; quite a few times actually." Leia started tracing invisible patterns in the rough wooden tabletop.

"Lady, you get stranger and stranger the more I get to know you." He remarked, signaling the server over again. She smiled quietly, perhaps the evening was saved, small spat avoided – or at least forgotten for now.

"That's rich, look who's talking."

He laughed then, a handsome rich laugh which forced her to look up at him. He looked so different at that moment, younger, less cynical and almost – free. Compelled by something but not knowing what exactly, and expanded her story.

"It was my sixteenth birthday; my friend Winter and I wanted to celebrate, so we snuck into the galley after the staff had gone to bed, broke into the liquor cabinet, but we didn't know what we should take, so we simply choose the closest bottle. It turned out to be that. It was horrible, but we drank it anyway since we really didn't know any better.: She stopped and smiled. She hadn't let herself think about Winter very much. Or her life before this. What was the point really? Everything was different. Gone. Han sat quietly, smiling as well. "Anyway,: she continued, "I left shortly after that to take my seat at the senate, but for my seventeenth birthday, Winter sent me a bottle as a joke. I never got around to drinking it. It was left in my apartment on Coruscant. Then, well -" she looked away from him without finishing. They sat in silence for a moment as a tired looking server dropped two glasses on front of them and gathered the chips before stalking off.

"Have you heard from-" Han asked quietly, sliding the small glass of wine to her.

"No. I don't know where she was when... when it happened. I desperately hope she was off-world. But I might never know."

"I'm sure when the war is over, you'll find her."

"If I last that long, maybe." Leia said quietly. She offered him a small smile to his silence and lifted the glass, inhaling its offensively sweet smell.

Nothing more on that subject was said. He didn't bring it up again, and she had forgotten the exchange took place. It wasn't until several months later, Han and Chewie had gone on a stockade run with a few members from Luke's newly formed Rogue Squadron, when a strange box appeared in her room. It was wrapped simply. Curiosity finally got the better of her late that evening, after hours of staring at it. Ripping off the packaging she found a bottle of Ruusan Ice Wine. She knew immediately, even as she picked up the card and read the familiar hurried-slanted scribe, what this gift meant.

For you and Winter. Don't give up.

PS - Everyone hates Ruusan wine - call it Whiskey Sweet - it sounds better and at least people won't know what you're drinking.

She had kept that bottle with her, it had been packed in her luggage during the evacuation of Hoth, and after being reunited with the fleet she had stared at it night after night. A reminder of two people she had loved, two people which the Empire had stolen from her. Two people she would devote her life to finding again.

It had taken years, but she had finally shared that bottle with Winter.

"Hey, you awake?"

She laughed, and nodded. "Just thinking."

"Of?"

"You."

"Oh, that's alright then." He smiled. "I have something for you." Han whispered into her ear after a moment.

"There's more?" she asked, Han simply hummed an affirmative sound, making her giggle. He shifted slightly and picked up the small navy box she had noticed early from the table beside him.

"There's always more. Here, happy birthday."

Leia took the small package from him, tracing the velvety feel of the box several times before lifting the top.

"Oh, it's beautiful."

"It reminded me of you."

xXx

"Thank you for today, it was perfect." With the lights of the city hidden behind the darkened wall of glass behind them, and a trail of clothing strewn up the staircase, Leia turned in his arms and staring up at the dancing points of light created by the candles on the bedside table.

"Good. That was the idea."

"Although, I think next year we need a bigger cake. There's hardly any left over, and Luke called dibs on the corner piece."

"He can't call dibs, it's your cake."

"Well, it's his birthday too, I guess. Although, I might eat all of it for breakfast. Then I can apologize later."

"Sounds very 'Solo' of you. I approve."

"I thought you would."

"So, what did you wish for?"

"I can't tell you! If I do, it won't come true."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Fine," she sighed, leaning closer to him, fingers playing across his chest. "I wished for what every woman wishes for on her thirtieth birthday: I wished to be twenty-nine again."

"I've never understood that. What exactly is wrong with being thirty?"

"I'm not sure. It's not even that old, really." She looked up and scrunched her nose at him playfully. "I mean, it's not forty. Forty's old. Isn't it?"

"Excuse me, are you saying I'm old?" he turned quickly, pinning her under him and winding a hand loosely through her hair, massaging her scalp softly. Her eyes closed slowly and a contented sigh left her. "I'm saying you're mine." she whispered breathlessly.

"Yes, I am." And with that, he leaned down to kiss her again.

xXx

"Leia?" he breathed into the darkness.

"Yes?"

"What did you really wish for?"

"It's silly."

"What?" Han asked again, already knowing the answer. She buried her face into his shoulder, and breathed deeply.

"Alderaan. I wished for Alderaan."


	10. Pyrshak System

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after Endor, after Bakura, but before things got a little too... serious. A fun and playful look at what H&L's first date might look like - since it's a bit backwards... Enjoy!

"I dunno 'bout you, Sweetheart, but I'm ready to get outta here."

Han flopped down heavily beside her into the pilot's seat and lazily flicked a few controls. The Falcon had been primed and prepped for nearly an hour - waiting for the couple to say goodbyes. Chewie stood with Malla and their young son on the deck above docking bay.

"She smells like a wet Wookie." He complained, wrinkling up his nose in exaggerated distaste.

"Does she? Honestly, I haven't noticed any great difference." Leia smirked and pressed the override switch above her head; listening to the navi-computer whir to life behind them.

"Careful." He warned, shooting her a 'don't insult my baby' look which was always encouraged her. She and the Falcon had come to understand each other during the last couple of years, and the crotchety old freighter had become Leia's haven over the last three months or so. Truly, the Falcon was the only home Leia had known since Alderaan, and she loved the ship - perhaps not with the strange attachment Han did - but she loved it all the same. Leia smiled to herself, correcting her last silent statement. 'Her', not 'it'. Apparently that mattered.

"I had no idea it rained so much here." She said quietly, looking up at the darkened sky raging above them.

"It generally doesn't. We're just lucky I guess."

Their stay on Kashyyyk had been a short but pleasant one. Leia had been apprehensive upon arrival - Wookies weren't keen on outsiders, particularly humans - and really, after what the Imperials had done to them and their homeworld, who would blame them? So, while both Han and Chewie adamantly told her that her coming along was more than welcome, the sick feeling at the pit of her stomach grew as they had approached the planet. The forest world had fallen into view below them, and as the ship descended down towards the broad canopy, the excited tension in the cockpit mounted exactly.

Chewie was out of his seat before the Falcon had come to rest on the wooden platform and Leia could make out several large, imposing figures standing under the overhang. Han had stood, stretched and reached for her hand. Leia hesitated noticeably before placing her palm in his. She allowed him to pull her gently to stand, he watched her a moment, noting the tiny details of stress on her features. He didn't say anything, simply crooked his index finger under her chin and kissed her quickly, tugging at her hand with a reassuring smile.

It had been fine after all. More than fine, it had been wonderful. She chided herself later, perched on a very high, large stool at the kitchen in Chewie's family home, watching Han and the wookie laugh and exchange good-natured ribbing, that her fear had been entirely unwarranted. Han had teased her, when they had a moment alone, tossing their traveling packs in the guestroom Malla had led them to, that Chewie wouldn't have let them eat her. She rolled her eyes at him and stayed silent. But, he was right. She did feel foolish, sitting here in her friend's home with his family, for being so worried. As if Chewbacca would have let anything happen to her. She smiled at herself in memory.

"Eight days?" She asked.

"Nine, I think. Unless we want to come back sooner, that's fine too. I have a few things to pick up on Zeltros - since we're close, and," he paused and the ship rose slowly off the platform and hovered for a moment before Han tilted the nose towards the sky. "I thought we could swing by Manaan for a few days."

"Manaan? Whatever for?"

"The swoop bike finals are held there this year, in Ahto. Could be fun."

"I've never been to a swoop race." She admitted, settling back to the over-sized co-pilot seat, feeling the steady hum of the hyperdrive and the slight tug as they cleared the gravity well, heading out into open space.

"What exactly did you do before you met me?" he squinted at her, a slow half grin sliding across his face.

"Respectable things, mainly." she waved a hand casually a flippant gesture, keeping her gaze forward watching the coolant indicator flash green.

He grinned and turned her chair towards him with his foot.

"Respectable, huh? You mean boring."

"I used to know nice men," dropping her voice slightly she eyed him, challenging. How quickly they fell into this familiar game always surprised her. Her relationship with Han wasn't exactly easy, but it was the most natural thing she had ever done. Their banter was like breathing; instinctive and necessary.

"Nice?"

"Very nice." she breathed.

"I can be nice." he took her hand softly, without breaking eye contact with her.

"Really?"

"We could see the races, have dinner, maybe go dancing..." he traced small circles on the inside of her wrist, over the pulse point.

"That would be nice."

"We could actually go on a first date."

Her eyes sprang open and he held her wrist tighter, smile broadening.

"What?"

"I'm told dating is nice."

"We date!"

"Nope, never."

"Yes, we went to that place on Ryloth. You made fun of me for ordering Ice Wine and I told you about Winter. That was a date!"

"Doesn't count. We weren't together at the time, besides - you were mad at me that night."

"You were being an ass."

"No I wasn't. You were being pissy."

Damn. She had been too. Surly, she though desperately racking her memory, they must have gone on at least one date; they had been seeing each other for months!

"Cloud City." She countered. That might count...

"Nope. We ordered room service and you got cold feet." He was overly enjoying this, Leia irritably observed.

"Endor."

"Nope. Doesn't count either." he leaned forward, still playing with her wrist.

"Why not?"

"How many reasons do you need? We were on a mission for your Alliance-"

"It's your Alliance too, Hotshot." She snapped back, fire filling her eyes. Seriously? Not once? They had done plenty of everything else...

"Fine. The Alliance. Your brother was there-"

"I didn't know he was my brother then."

"Are you going to interrupt every sentence?"

"Annoying, isn't it? What about Bakrua?"

"What about Bakrua? You seduced me. On purpose." He added triumphantly.

"I don't remember it going exactly like that. You were fairly eager, not to mention easy. Still are, actually." She countered.

"Ha! That's rich, you're insatiable."

"I'm a product of my environment."

"You owe me a date, Princess. A real date."

She chewed on her lip. Shit. He was right. They had skipped over that part - she hadn't even noticed it was missing until this moment - and gone straight from yelling at each other to being bed mates. Not that they stopped yelling, but at least it wasn't all they did these days.

"Okay." Suddenly shy, she looked down at their hands.

"Hey. I was only teasing." His voice soften, he could almost see the self-deprecating thoughts creeping across her face.

"That's pretty bad, isn't it?"

"Nah." He pulled on her wrist until she was leaning forward, close enough for him to feel her breath on his face. He had wanted to tease her, not make her feel cheap and easy - which is clearly what had happened. She had settled so thoroughly and securely into his life, that he occasionally forgot how young she was, he also forgot to be careful with her - especially these days, comfortable as they were with each other. "It's not really like we had much of a choice."

She nodded, eyes still cast downwards.

"But, now we have time. Doesn't have to be swoops though. We can go anywhere."

"Manaan sounds lovely."

"Good. I booked us into a resort in Ahto West."

"A resort?"

"A suite. With a jetted tub."

"That's not very first-datey."

"I figured we could improve on the concept. It has a spa."

"Oh, you do know your audience."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes." She nodded, and rose. "I'm going to wash the wet-wookie smell off before we get to Zeltros."

"It's only an hour jump." He called after her.

xXx

Leia flicked quickly through the clothing in her pack. Nothing. Turning, she opened her side of the small wardrobe cupboard. Nothing.

She pulled her hair free of the towel, running her fingers through the damp strands. Having no real frame of reference as to what was 'appropriate' to wear to a swoop race event on an inner-rim resort world, Leia was willing to wager her entire wardrobe was unsuitable. She laughed lightly to herself at her new version of 'suitable clothing', picking up a knit dress - a favourite of hers - and turning the garment over, feeling the weight of the fabric. No, she didn't own anything worthy of a first date on a rough-and-tumble world near the western reaches with a possibly-too-old-for-her Corellian smuggler-turned-General whom she loved and had been sleeping with for over three months. She wasn't sure what to wear - but she knew everything she owned was wrong.

No part of her formal training had prepared her for this problem.

A first date with a pompous aristocrat on Coruscant? Yes.

Arm candy to Han Solo at a swoop bike racing event on a low-brow resort world? No.

She tossed the dress back into the pack and drummed her fingers lightly on the cupboard door. Perhaps she could slip away while Han was picking up whatever it was he needed on Zeltros and find something else to wear; something a little less... well, maybe just a little less.

"Fifteen til dropout." Han's voice hollered from the cockpit, breaking her out of her internal war.

"Shit." she muttered, and hastily grabbed her hairdryer from it's hiding spot.

xXx

"You going to be long?"

"Hope not." he shot her a sideways look and shrugged; leaning deeper into the counter, "but, they aren't the fastest moving part dealers I've ever met."

"I'm going to go wander down the row."

"Take your comm, and this." he held a small blaster out to her.

"Bossy."

"I mean it, this place-"

"I know," she rose up, kissed his chin and tucked the hold-out gun into her holster. "I'm a pretty tough girl, I can tie my own boots." She teased.

He didn't smile at that, instead looking over her head towards the bright doorway of the shop. "I'll call you when I'm done." His jaw flexed.

"Okay. Have fun darling." she quirked a brow and smiled. His eyes creased in effort but the firm line of his mouth didn't waver.

The sun was hot, after being holed up inside on Kashyyyk for three days, this world was a welcome change. Leia started at a causal stroll - an imitation swagger she had picked up from Han years ago - down the north side of the row. The street was lined with tourist shops, cafes and small boutique dealers. A dress in the window near the end of the third block caught her eye. It was something she would have wanted but never would have considered wearing - until now. It was stunning. Black with a plunging halter type neckline. Floor length, with a skirt which gathered artfully at the low swell of her hips, flowing slightly outwards, it gave the impression she was floating as the skirt moved and swirled around her feet.

It was perfect. Sexy without leaving her feeling entirely naked or exposed, very 'Leia' - or rather 'new Leia'.

The shop was a gem - she found a 'swoop bike outfit" and even scored three swim sets. If this was a resort they were heading to, swim gear would likely be required.

"Your husband will love this one." She elderly shop keeper smiled knowingly at her as she wrapped one of the tops Leia had chosen.

"Oh," that threw her off. No one had ever labeled them before, and certainly not as a married couple. "Thank you, but I'm not married."

She woman looked at her sideways. "I mean, we." She forced a small laugh. "We aren't married. Just on holiday. I forgot my other bag." Leia lied easily. digging her credit chip out of her holster and handing it over. Her comm beeped.

"Finished? That was fast." She answered without looking at the display. Han was the only one within range who had her code.

"Well, sort of." his disembodied voice sighed over the unit. The shop woman raised an eyebrow as she started packing the dress. "They need to move some stock around, so I have to wait until tomorrow. Sorry, Sweetheart, looks like we're suck here for the rest of the day. We'll leave first thing in the afternoon tomorrow. Have you eaten? I'm starving."

"That's fine. No, not yet. I'm just down the street from you. I'll be right out." Leia clicked off and smiled an apology at the woman behind the counter.

"Sorry."

"Handsome sounding boyfriend you have there, Sweetheart." she grinned, using Han's pet name back at her.

"Oh. Umm... Thank you. Yes, he is." Boyfriend? No, that doesn't sound right. "He's knows it, too." She added. "Thank you."

xXx

"Sorry, I'll be right out." Leia called form the fresher. "Damn it," hissing as she dropped yet another pin to the floor. Her hands were shaking; nerves flaring unexpectedly and inconveniently to life the longer she stared at herself in the well appointed bright room. They had found a hotel without incident, a rather nice one - actually - near the centre of town. An older building modernized inside and featuring several restaurants, bars and caf shops.

She had caught sight of him as he passed the fresher door earlier, darkly dressed and handsome. Her anxiety spiked and she hastily shut the hinge style door. She knew, was completely aware of how ridiculous she was being. She was behaving like a shy, inexperienced teenager ready to be taken to formal. Well, she raised an eyebrow at herself, breathing out sharply. She was neither a teenager or inexperienced - she smiled despite of herself - and she wasn't going to allow old insecurities to ruin her actual first date with Han. That caused her to shake her head. How stupid really, was it to be worried about this?

Han would tease her if he knew how she was acting, standing here alone in the fresher of a hotel room, as he waited for her - likely catching up on the last week's smashball scores - and worrying herself into a state of panic over dinner. He laugh and remind her of their night on Cloud City before everything had gone to hell. Cold feet. Although, she knew, in actuality, Han would likely feel terribly guilty for making her feel like this. He hadn't meant anything by the comment, only to tease her and get a rise out of her. Push her a little. Not make her feel... how did she feel? Leia stepped back from the mirror and ran a hand over the braids wound through her hair.

"Take your time, I'll meet you in the lobby bar, do you want a drink?"

"Okay. Yes, please. I won't be long." She snapped out of her wayward thoughts and slipped another pin into the arrangement.

xXx

The lobby bar was packed. Far busier than Han had expected. Ordering a drink and finding a place at the long counter where he could watch the doors, he waited. A woman at the end of the bar flicked her eyes up and studied him. He turned away from her and nursed his whiskey.

Two men beside him - human from the Dolomar system if their accents were anything to go by - were on the hunt and had struck out with three woman in the joint so far. They were loud, abrasive and Han didn't relish spending too much more time beside them, but the place was jammed and his basic instincts wouldn't allow him to move away from a clear sight-line, no matter who hung around to irritate. He took another short mouthful.

"Hey hey hey! Look what we have here!" the less drunk of the two idiots beside him howled. He caught movement at the inside door, a woman stood just inside the entryway; darkly clad in a graceful, slender dress and tall heels. Alluring. There was something... Han straightened up. That was his woman. She caught sight of him watching her and a smile tugged at the side of her mouth. Round one; Leia.

She pulled herself away from the door frame in that unhurried way she had stolen from him. Giving him time to take her in.

"Sorry I'm late." she hushed, looking up at him through her lashes.

The men beside them were still openly staring at her and the woman who had been watching him from the far side of the bar expression soured slightly before moving on to find a new target.

"Nice dress." He offered an upturned palm as she approached.

"Thank you."

"Drink?"

"Please."

He deposited the heavy crystal cut glass in her hand, clinking his to the rim lightly, making her giggle.

"Sorry I made you wait."

"It was worth it. You always are." He added, bending closer to her ear, sending tiny shivers up and down her spine.


End file.
